Twenty two minutes. It doesn’t seem like a long time, but for me it was an eternity. I was ready to go the moment I heard my forever mom say it. “Want to go play in the snow when dad gets home?” she asked dear baby Carter. Unlike me, he didn’t really register much about her words other than the word “dad.” But I knew fun was in the near future and I was ready.
What I wasn’t ready for was the preparation it would take for my people to be ready. There were snow pants and hats and mittens and boots. And layers (and layers) of clothes. Mom and Carter weren’t feeling the best yesterday, so no caution was spared in terms of ensuring they were cozy and warm. The same goes for dad when he got home a few minutes later. All said and done, it took twenty two minutes for my forever family to be backyard ready.
Fresh snowflakes fell from the sky as family playtime ensued in the foot (or so) of snow we were walloped with the other day. I stood back and watched as poor Carter sank into the snow. Moving wasn’t really an option at that point, but that didn’t change the smile on his face. I watched as he laid back and watched the snowflakes fall, covering his eyelashes like angel dust. I watched as my parents sat by his side and took it all in.
And I realized as I watched that if I could make a snowglobe, it would look just like this. With my people and their joy and love and happiness filling the space between the snow in the sky and the snow on the ground.
Even if it all only lasted six minutes. It took twenty two minutes to get ready. From the layers (and layers) of clothes to the snow pants and jackets and hats and mittens and boots, it was quite the process. But even though it took more than three times as long to prepare for the big backyard outing as it did to actually enjoy it, waiting was only part of the fun.
Joy. From the ground up, it doesn’t have to last any longer than a snowflake that melts the instant it meets a person’s skin. Because it lives on in our hearts.