Now
that the holidays are behind us—and the January sales are upon us—how do we
cope with all these frigid, dark days? It’s
not like spring is around the corner; we still have to slog through February
and March (possibly the cruelest months).
Yes, I know there are plenty of people out there who embrace these cold
winter days because they love skiing and snowboarding. Otherwise the fancy winter resorts in
Colorado, Utah, and Idaho would go belly up right along with the more modest
mountain inns and time shares on the East coast. And there would be no such
thing as artificial snow.
As for
other winter sports, I’m aware that a giant segment of the population (mostly
male) adores football and basketball.
Despite losing records for all the New York teams, both Henry and Max
love watching these sports on TV. Both father and son are ardent Giants fans
(though less enamored of the Knicks these days, with their record 5 wins and 35
losses). Still, there are plenty of people—women
and children included—who flock to football games OUTSIDE, despite snow, ice
and sub-freezing temperatures. I haven’t
watched an outdoor football game since Max retired from his flag football
league in high school. These days, when
father and/or son flip the TV to football, mom opens a book, or escapes to
another room to call a friend. But I
never escape entirely because I can still hear the loud, drunken cheers and
groans coming from the bar, Bounce, directly across the street from our
apartment.
Of
course, weathering winter is easy for the so-called “snow birds” and (usually
long-time empty nesters) who migrate south for the winter to Florida: Palm
Beach, Miami, Ft. Lauderdale etc. Ah,
the lure of warmth and sunshine…. Not
only do these affluent retirees escape the bone-chilling temperatures of New
York—currently 20 degrees—but they also skip out on the hefty New York City and
state income taxes, IF they’re willing
to stay south for six months and a day. Many snow birds also manage to lure
their chicks and grand chicks down to Florida to visit over school vacations
and these folks enjoy watching grandbabies build sandcastles and frolic on the
beach. A few of my friends have parents
with condos in Florida, and thus the opportunity (and, yes, the obligation!) to
visit every winter. While some of my friends don’t look forward to these winter
family visits, right about now I’m shivering with envy.
My mom
lives eight blocks away in a ground floor walk-up, and she is hibernating for
the winter. She only ventures out in the
frigid weather when absolutely necessary.
Mostly, she stocks up on essentials and books from the library in
advance of sub-freezing temperatures, sleet, rain and wind chills. Exceptions
to Mom’s hibernation include holidays, birthdays and celebratory occasions with
her family. Staying warm is a lot more difficult for her than for a well-fed
bear. My mom, age 87, is frail at only
98 pounds; in addition, she has bad arthritis and takes blood thinners for her
heart so she moves slowly and gets cold easily. Her baby bear (me) has taught
her to layer up with a down vest under her down coat, along with sweaters,
shirts, scarf, gloves and hat. I shudder
to think how long it must take her to bundle up just to go to the drugstore or
supermarket.
I
refuse to hibernate even though I hate the cold, dark days of winter. As I get older, (and I’m far from frail), I
find myself needing to wear more clothes to stay warm. I also have a harder time waiting for buses
or racing other shivering New Yorkers for cabs. (Thank God for Uber and apps).
On the other hand, my 24 year old twins, Max and Sarah, seem almost oblivious
to the cold. Often they don’t bother
with hats and gloves—and neither one EVER carry an umbrella! Even when the twins were little and Henry and
I took them sledding in Central Park, they never complained of being cold.
Even when their mittens were damp
from the snow or their cheeks were red and noses running, they pleaded:
“Please, please, let’s go down the hill one more time.”
Meanwhile I wondered whether my
fingers had frostbite inside my
gloves. That was back when we planned
winter escapes to the Caribbean with our children over school vacations. Whether it was Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Barbados
or St. Martin, we always flew some place warm. In those days, Sarah (on the
autistic spectrum) had been especially explosive and difficult; swimming and
frolicking in the ocean for hours on vacation had delighted and finally exhausted
her. And when Sarah was happy, Henry and
I could finally relax (while still taking turns watching our daughter to make sure
she didn’t float away and drown). While Henry dozed on a beach chair or tossed a
football with Max, I alternated reading and glancing up at Sarah, our aspiring
mermaid.
Now
that Max has flown the coop and Sarah is rarely home, we haven’t planned any
family vacations (winter or summer) for the foreseeable future. Our (mostly) grown up kids have their own
plans. They hang out with their
respective boyfriend and girlfriend (as they should). Sometimes, when we’re missing our twins, I
have to remind Henry that we used to dream of the day Sarah had her own friends
and boyfriend, instead of tagging along with us or staying home alone. That
dream, at least, has come true. Now we are weathering the winter as a twosome,
which means going to the movies, out for dinner with friends, and occasionally
to theater or a museum. Oh yes, we’re
also shopping January furniture sales, re-feathering and converting out family
roost into a cozy couple’s nest.
Labels: autism, basketball, Colorado, empty nest, Florida, football, Giants, hibernating, holidays, Idaho, January sales, Knicks, ski resorts, sledding, snowbirds, twins, Utah, winter