I used to love when it snowed. I would sit by my window and watch the small, fluffy flakes fluttering down from the sky for hours. It amazed me. It inspired me. It made me feel whole. Sure, the snowflakes were beautiful…. but that wasn’t the reason that I loved to watch it snow. Somewhere along the line, I decided that snowflakes looked like feathers from the wing of an angel. So whenever it started to snow, it made me feel safe and warm. Like I was being looked after or taken care of. No matter where I was or what I was doing, the snowflakes had a way of making me feel protected.
Then, that idea morphed once again. As I got older, certain people in my life passed away. Many of them during the winter months. So the snow became a symbol of something else for me: a hello from the loved ones I had lost. Whenever it snowed, I smiled, because I knew they were nearby, letting me know that everything was alright. It gave me an enormous sense of comfort…. especially when I was struggling through the grieving process. The sight of snow actually helped me move on in a healthy way. In my own way.
These days, I still smile when it snows. Because it reminds me of the happy memories. The comfort, the joy, and the love that I felt. It reminds me that life is beautiful and there is always someone up above…waiting to say hello.