Reflections on the Twelfth Week of Winter

The week started with blue skies, temperatures in the fifties, and a giggling sewing afternoon with my friend in Meadville. The weekend was even better. Despite mist and rain on Friday, Spence and I returned from errands to a surprise–our son's Ford Focus in the driveway. Charlie had woken at 1:30 AM, worked his UPS shift, packed, and driven four hours from Columbus just for the weekend. I pulled out his birthday presents I'd wrapped weeks ago. With a wry smile, he opened books and a sleeveless T-shirt before dangling ribbons to entertain the cats hovering beside him. Hands gesturing, he told the saga of the semi getting stuck in mud at the UPS warehouse. Saturday, Spence cooked a hearty breakfast, Charlie upgraded my computer, and I baked chicken pot pie. Charlie said, “Don't go overboard.” While he, Spence, and the cats napped, I baked pumpkin oatmeal cookies and an apple pie–it was Pi Day after all. We played Ticket to Ride and worked the Cochranton Newsletter crossword. After another gourmet breakfast and the Sunday NPR puzzle, Charlie slid on the ice to load his car for the trip back to Columbus through wind and the threat of snow. In my fluffy red slippers, I stood on the porch, held back tears, and waved good bye.