In my snow memory bank (pun intended), two events stand out.
Snow blankets our front yard in the Super Storm of 1993. |
The first occurred the weekend before our daughter's birth -- the Super Storm of '93. Amid snow, ice and wind, we lost power and were forced to sleep on a mattress we'd dragged in front of our gas-log fireplace. Sounds fun, right? Perhaps, unless you're eight and a half months pregnant and on doctor ordered bed rest. We managed to make the best of it though and our baby girl was born on a cool, sunny day just 2 days later.
My husband with our St. Patrick's Day baby. |
Flash forward three and half years. There was no snow the day our son was born. But 48 hours later, just as we were released from the hospital, the biggest, whitest flakes of snow began to fall. The tiny dressing gown he wore home from the hospital had little blue snowflakes embroidered on the collar. It was perfect -- just like him.
In his "snow" outfit, wrapped in a blanket knitted by my grandmother. |
So while it doesn't snow often in Atlanta, when it does, it's often remarkable.
How sweet is that?
ReplyDelete