About this time of year people start complaining about the heat. I am no exception. While at the dentist's office I complained and the technician said, "Would you rather be in a blizzard?"
That reminded me of a blizzard experience I had while living in New York City as a young newlywed.
Since it had snowed most of the night, in the morning I said to my husband, "I don't think we should go to work today."
"Of course we are going to work," he said.
"Look outside," I whined. "You can't see anything."
"If the bus is there, we're going."
Hard to believe that when I was younger it didn't occur to me to argue with a man!
As we were leaving, dressed in gloves, boots and winter coats, my husband handed me a long blue-and-white-striped woolen scarf he'd bought me for Christmas. Dutifully, I wrapped it around my neck.
We lived on East River Drive. When we walked out the side door, there sat the bus. After we boarded, it took off, moving slowly. By the time we got to Grand and Clinton Streets, snow was everywhere. Stalled cars blocked any progress.
"Sorry," the bus driver announced. "Everybody off."
I worked on 19th Street and Fifth Avenue. My husband's office was a couple of blocks from there. This was where we usually transferred to the second bus. Obviously, this was not happening today. No buses were going the other way either. We had to walk home. In spring, this was a delightful walk, maybe 40 minutes. Much different trudging through the snow.
"I knew we should stay home," I admonished my husband, who said nothing. We got off the bus and started our trek.
Did I mention that I had a full-blown case of asthma? About 15 minutes from our apartment I started wheezing. With the wind howling, I don't know if my husband heard me. Not only couldn't I breathe, but my feet were getting numb from the cold. Frostbite! I imagined my feet being amputated.
Soon he realized I was no longer by his side. He turned around.
I was sitting on the curb, gasping for breath. "Go on without me," I murmured. "Just leave me here to die."
Without speaking, he took the scarf from my neck. I watched as he wrapped it around his head, covering his ears. Grabbing me under the arms, he got me to my feet. Then he picked me up.
So there we were - him carrying his bride home, my arms clasped around his neck. About a half block from our home, we passed a Hasidic rabbi. Seeing us, he just shook his head as if to say, "What are these morons doing?" If we'd have run into a priest, he would have crossed himself.
Finally we reached the doorway of our apartment building. My husband put me down and we shuffled to the elevator.
Once in our apartment, he helped me to the couch, placed a hot water bottle on my numb feet, made me tea and handed me my asthma medication.
We were snowed in for three days. Remembering that freezing weather makes me appreciate our dependable sunshine.
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