Snow on snow on snow in through the looking glass.

I’m learning, always learning, to let go of the way things should be and, instead, to embrace the way they are.

We took a trip to the countryside, watched the snow fall in the woods, startled when the power flickered off then on a few times. By chance, we found a single pair of orange, waterproof boots in my son’s size in a closet. He donned them as we wandered the grounds the next morning, our footsteps heavy and deliberate to break through the layer of ice to the soft snow below. All the horses wore heavy blankets, peeked their heads out the barn windows at the sound of our voices.

It was our first trip with our daughter. Three years ago, when we took our first trip with our son, we had to pull the car over halfway to our destination because the snow had made the roads too treacherous to go any further. We ended up eating dinner at a Waffle House and spending the night at the Day’s Inn next door. We often recall, fondly, the pecan waffles and the newspaper crossword puzzle we finished together. Two first trips, both in snowstorms, despite living in the Mid Atlantic where we don’t get much snow.

Oh how difficult things continue to be. How many impossible choices we continue to confront. May we have the wisdom to keep making the decisions that will best serve all of us, over and over and over again.