A common misconception people may have about where I live is that we get snow. That may be true in the outlying suburbs and the other regions around The Beaver State. However, where we live, near the heart and center of fair Portlandia, where young people go to retire, snow is a rare and fleeting thing.
On Monday, I actually ventured out of the apartment, which isn’t quite as rare as the snow, but close. You see, after Marco’s wedding, dealing with Keith’s feeling’s about his relationship with Marco, and all the mental/emotional work I did to cope with all of that and to prepare for my forthcoming magazine article on Self-Love, I’ve been in a major fibro-flare and trying not to succumb to the depression. Hygiene, housekeeping, sleep and socialization tend to fall by the wayside.
Anyhoo, if Luna and I were going to eat anything other than handfuls of shredded, frosted, mini-wheats once we finally left the warmth and comfort of the bedroom, I was going to have to spend more than an hour cleaning the kitchen. I decided that we should get out of the apartment and head over to the nearest place to eat with decent food, in good portions, at reasonably priced amounts, the local medical center.
It’s a short walk, but Luna was very happy to walk and get out some energy. She decided she wanted to hold my hands while walking backwards in front of me. It worked for a few steps before I felt off balance and was afraid of tripping and falling on top of her. Still it was great to see how happy and playful she was. It was nice to break away from my doldrums for a brief moment and experience being happy in the present moment, laughing and smiling myself.
As we approached the building it seemed to be visibly sprinkling, but I didn’t see rain spots appear on the ground. We opened the door for an employee whose hands were full with her lunch. She acted surprised, but very grateful. I made sure to tell Luna that it’s polite and courteous to open the door and hold it for others, especially if they have their hands full. Who knows if that lesson went anywhere into the brain of a four year old, but the important thing is to make the effort to offer the lesson.
It was lunchtime and there were quite a number of people hanging out, waiting for their grill orders, serving themselves at the restaurant worthy salad bar & Asian food bar, or helping themselves to pizza and the hot & ready deli case.
While we waited for our grill order of a bacon cheeseburger & fries for me and chicken strips & fries for Luna, she decided to dance and twirl around the clear space between stations. I was afraid that people might get frustrated or annoyed by her antics, since it was busy & crowded. So, I told her I knew she was happy and wanted to dance and twirl, but that I wanted her to be careful and stay safe around so many people. It was gratifying to see the indulgent looks and favorable smiles of the others also waiting for their food.
Once we sat down and began eating, I looked up and saw big white flakes coming down outside. I tried to capture it with my phone’s camera, it was so pretty to see the slow, steady drifting of the fluffy, bright, white puffs floating outside the clear, plate glass windows. Sadly, as good as this camera is, it isn’t designed to capture such an image.
Once Luna was finished eating, we walked outside and discovered the only white on the walkways was the rock salt laid down to prevent slips and falls on the concrete.
The rest if the way home we did our best to play in the snow and I remembered a song I learned while watching Barney when LaLa was little, If all the raindrops, and started singing it for Luna.
I’m happy we had those moments together and incredibly grateful for the tools and technology to capture this little memory.