Michiko's America

As soon as I picked up my son from school, he said, “Mom, it’s going to be a snow day tomorrow.  There’s a 68% possibility of one!” Kids use an app, a snow day calculator, and spice it up with their wishful thinking.  They act as if snow days were their earned right.  In America, a very litigious society, nobody wants anybody to get hurt.  There’s also another kind of fear: whether snow days will remain unused at the end of the winter?  They need to be used up before spring break so that everything will remain as it was planned; teachers don’t have to adjust their curriculum, and families can enjoy their planned vacation or activity without guilt.

I pretend that I have an issue with it, but secretly bask in the glory of a snow day.

I was in the laundry room in the basement when I heard my kids roar and run around with joy. The snow day notice came around 8 pm.  I turned my alarm off that was set for 5:55 am, and felt my whole body relax.  One of the advantages of having teenagers is that they don’t get up too early on weekends and holidays, especially on snow days.  And if they do, they won’t bother me.  I made a plea to my husband that he shouldn’t go to work, as his commute to the city would be miserable.  The train schedule would be unpredictable, and I wanted to avoid a situation where I would need to drop him off or pick him up at one of the stations with more reliable trains but further from our home.  I was determined that I would enjoy a nap in the morning.

I woke up around 5 am the next morning, sensing my husband walking around.  He said he would work from home.  With that, I fell back asleep.  It’s a wonderful feeling that you can enjoy another two hours or so floating between real life and a dream world.  My sleep during morning naps is usually shallow, and I tend to have many dreams.  When I got up, I still remembered my last dream which involved the Golden Gate Bridge, a cup of coffee and a ladder that led to the loft area in a hotel room.

I went to the kitchen and found my son making pink pancakes to celebrate Valentine’s Day two days in advance.  My husband made coffee, and my daughter cut fruit.  I enjoyed a bonus weekend breakfast on Tuesday.  I didn’t know what time it was, and I didn’t have to worry about checking.  What a glorious morning!

Sipping coffee, I worked all day in front of the fire that my husband made for me, enjoying the sounds and warmth from it.  The kids came, played the piano, and left.  They played a video game together and then came back later to have a snack.  We had leftover chicken noodle soup and cheese for lunch.  It turned out to be a snow-less snow day.  The sun was shining on the thin layer of powdery snow and it made the world bright and beautiful.  One of my daughter’s friends offered a positive interpretation of my dream via email.   Time seemed to pass very slowly and comfortably.

Looking at the evening sky, I wondered why I love snow days so much.  Not just today.  I’ve always loved snow days. I appreciate the extra day off, for sure.  But there’s something special about snow days.  It’s different from vacation for which we choose a destination, book hotels, and give the kids a list of items that they need to pack.  We plan ahead so that we can make the most of the time we are together, because we invest money and effort to create shared memories.  But a snow day always comes as a bit of surprise.  It’s up to the sky and our school district, so, I can’t plan anything for my family.  They’re left to their own devices to have fun.

My greatest joy on a snow day comes from deleting the planned activities from the calendar, returning it to a blank slate.  A snow day is like a time warp, similar to what you experience when you fly west and your day expands beyond 24 hours. During this magical time warp, I work on whatever I want to work on, listen to my kids’ endless chatting, sip a glass of wine and watch my cats yawn.  We play card games after dinner, silently saying good-bye to the last bit of the gift from the winter sky.  Tomorrow, we have to return to the world that exists beyond our home.

On a snow day, I don’t have to be anywhere but home.  I sit back and appreciate the togetherness of my family, even when each of us is doing something different.  I enjoy looking out the window in the stillness of late afternoon.  How come I don’t have the time to look out the window on any other day?  This is the magic of a snow day: remembering what life offers.  Being snow-bound at home, I truly come home and remember that all living things on earth is given a gift; that is “Today.”