Indianapolis seems to be missing out on the biggest snow of the season. Warnings are all up and down the Appalachian Trail which, if you didn’t know, is 2200 miles long. That’s a lot of snow and a super big warning. I know this because my husband has become a slack packer, a person who hikes the trail occasionally with a….hum…personal assistant handy for pick ups and deliveries. So, he reported this morning the warning like an offical weatherman would. I think he might be worried about any crazy person who is currently out on the trail right now. More on that later. Is this missing of the snow part of global warming? It does seem weird that the snow line keeps to the south or north of Indy as if there is a secret warmth growing but hiding underneath the city….just waiting. As the snow falls, or doesn’t here in this city on this 2022 MLK Day, time allows for some reflection on a really hard year for most of us.

Lots of families have lost loved ones….ours was no exception. Our family lost two important family members this year. My husband’s father died in June, and then a month and a half later, my mom suddenly died. The first, of a long illness with cancer, the second, of a tired and weak heart. Both passings made Thanksgiving and Christmas different. As a family, we would always center our holidays around both of them, making them the focus of our visits. This year, we didn’t have that. This year, it felt like the focus was the absence of them. It was a great Christmas with our kids all being together for the first time in two years, (Covid) but it did feel just…different.

To keep the warm and fuzzies going with Christmas, making new holiday traditions seemed important to me. A couple of years ago, I started a Christmas box. It’s just a recipe box, but each year, I add the new recipes that I have discovered over the year and give them to my kids. They do love getting the cards with the hand-written recipes on them. It’s something. It’s a personal touch and adds a “something” something to the gift giving segment of our growing new traditions. I like it.

The reflections in the window of this year’s tree make it look like it is snowing. With the holidays in the rear view mirror, and despite the lack of snow, it does feel like a January winter. It’s cold out there. Growing warmth underneath this city seems like a nonexsistent wish right now because the furnace is on the struggle bus. The dripping of the cold water to prevent our pipes from freezing an ever present sound. Bundling up and counting my blessings seems like a good thing to do. I pray for all those east of Indy and up the coast, the elderly, the crazies on the mountain, and the homeless, that they may be warm, fed and have shelter from this impending storm.