Today it’s 8 years ago that Mom passed into the light. On the day that it happened, Seattle was experiencing a strangely beautiful winter day. The day was cold, clear and sunny. When she left, it was with the sunlight shining down on her face through the windows. Later, it was as if she chose the most beautiful moment of the day to go since Seattle in January usually consists of grey, plus more grey, plus rain.

Today it’s snowing. I didn’t believe it would happen since I think most weather forecasts follow the CYA Forecast Methodology – the Cover Your Ass kind. When they say “There will be a chance of showers, some breaks and a light wind may occur in the evening. And there’s a chance of some sun.” Everything in one forecast, take your pick and you will always be partially correct!

It started snowing in the middle of our walk this afternoon. I didn’t think it would continue or pick up in intensity but it has. After all, we’re too much of a city, it’s too warm, etc. It also started earlier than they said it would. Then again, why shouldn’t it today?  Mom wasn’t known for her “go along with crowd” personality.

Where snow is concerned, I have some really good memories of my Mom. For example, the day we went to pick up George at 3 months of age from the shelter in Yakima, it was snowing. He and Henry first met each other in the snow. When I surprised her with a trip to the Yukon Territory (CAN) for her 72nd birthday, there was so much snow that if you stepped of the path to to your cabin, you would be standing in snow above your knee. I remember her stepping off the path by accident and how much we laughed then. 

We were the only guests during the time and the toilets were in the main building. If you left your cabin at night, the only light was from the sky and the snow.

As it snows today, there won’t be the chance of seeing the Northern Lights or hearing her laugh. Instead I’ll make soup out of all of the leftover things in the kitchen and think of her doubting if all of those things really belong together in one pan. And I will miss her When the snow stops, I hope the world outside will be as magical as my Mom was.