January 5, 2014
Bea and I are sitting on the couch in her living room, in our pajamas, looking out of the big plate glass window at the snow coming down. As usual she has her Android and I have my tablet and we are both on Facebook.
She posts this picture with a comment:
“Welcome to the south suburbs winter wonderland. I saw a snow mobile going east on one of the larger roads. I'm lucky a neighbor blew out my sidewalk. Hopefully, I'll make contact with a snow removal guy tomorrow! I'm sure not going anywhere today.”
I add a comment on her Facebook timeline::
“Sitting across from you seeing the same thing. LOL”
And we giggle.
We share pictures and stories about the Chicago snow storm that our friends are posting on Facebook and the time goes by, and the snow keeps piling up.
But underneath our lazy amusement and Facebook fun, we worry – when will we get plowed out and we are restless – we want to take a walk in the beautiful snow. It’s Chicago. It's winter and the snow is deep on sidewalks and streets and the temperature outside including what they call “real feel” these days is 30-40 degrees below zero. Schools are closed. We know we must stay in.
I’m staying with Bea for a week as she recovers from major laparoscopic surgery. Our cars are snug in her two-car garage, which is unfortunately at the end of a long driveway. We have plenty of food, we are enjoying each other’s company, and it is very beautiful outside. It’s only one day of snow and cold, but we are already tired of being snowbound.
January 6, 2014
Bea gets the name of a snow plow outfit and calls them. Nope. They are not taking any new customers. She mentions that she is recovering from very recent major surgery and they take pity on her and soon we see a big snow plow truck and three men at her house, ready to tackle the snow.
It is just like a circus parade coming down the street. Something is happening!
Bea has recovered amazingly well and is able to be up and about, moving more slowly than usual. We are so excited about the snow plow that we are on the move, from the front of Bea’s house to the back, looking and snapping pictures out of the front window, the side windows along the driveway, and the back window by the garage. Back and forth, again and again we go, reporting to each other on the progress.
“The two guys are shoveling in the back.”
“The truck with the plow is going down the driveway.”
“Now it is backing up!”
“See how they are piling up the snow.”
“You can see the pavement.”
We marvel at how coordinated the guy in the truck is with the two guys shoveling. They each do their part; they know what they are doing and never get into each other’s way.
Finally they are done. The driveway is clear, the sidewalks in back and front and the stairs are shoveled. After Bea gives the guys a generous tip, we fall down on the couch and of course we post our pictures of the guys and their truck and the plow on Facebook .
Bea adds this comment with her pictures ”Found a wonderful snow removal company! What a marvelous job! Whew!”
My pictures are slightly different and I include this comment“Rescued by great team. Great relief. But still staying inside today”.
We are out of breath from the excitement of it all and we are exhausted. We no longer have to go anywhere on this cold snowy day. We are satisfied that we had our own version of the circus parade coming through town.
Beatrice Friend, of blessed memory, died on January 6, 2016. She was a loving and wise friend, the sister of my heart, and this story is posted as a reminder of how full of life she was and of how many wonderful memories we made together.