Snow Much Fun

All of this snow has really weighed heavy on me. Get it? Heavy snow?! No? Rough crowd

My dad was always the one who took care of the snow removal. The last few years we have been pretty lucky to escape giant snowstorms and when it did snow, our fabulous neighbor would take care of it for us, as we were inside tending to Dad.

Last weekend’s heavy hit saw hours of snow removal: snow blowing, shoveling, kicking it, building snowmen in it. And then repeat. Over and over again. It only served to make me miss Dad more. My own driveway at my house is pretty easy to keep clean, but theirs is fairly massive. He always just threw on the Carhartt and headed out, snow blowing for hours without ever complaining.

After about three hours of snow blowing I realized why he didn’t complain – his giant mustache probably froze his mouth shut. That stuff gets stuck to your hair like you wouldn’t believe. Every wisp of hair that came out from under my hat was like a giant icicle when I finally made my way in.

My mom has been feeling the void of Dad, too. We were talking about it over a cup of tea on Sunday evening, after we climbed Mt. Everest. Okay, it wasn’t that serious, but it felt that triumphant when there wasn’t any snow to be seen on the driveway (finally).

As we had finished wrapping up our driveway, we noticed another neighbor outside trying to shovel his. My sister and I grabbed shovels and mom pushed the snow blower over to his house. We ignored his pleas of “No, don’t. It’s okay. I got it.” We started to remove all the snow we could. It felt good. I would like to take this time to point out, yet again, how inspiring my parents always are. They always encouraged us to do things for others – but did so by leading  the way.

We had almost finished when I decided to go check on our back deck, which hadn’t been done all afternoon. My mom headed to the neighbor’s house, the one who had been taking care of our driveway for years now and started to snow blow. 

He came out, my mom said, and asked her what she was doing. She told him he had always done so much for us lately that she wanted to return the favor. When she stopped, they discussed how she had been missing Dad. Before Dad’s cancer and even until the last two years, Dad would always go over and snow blow their driveway for them. After he was unable to do the snow himself, the neighbor bought a huge snow blower. And he’s been helping us out ever since. Mom thanked him again. And then this happened:

Mom: I really miss Jimmy.

Neighbor: Know what I miss?

Mom: No?

Neighbor: I miss how he’d come over and snow blow for me and when I’d come outside to tell him he didn’t have to do that, he would just wave at me. And then he’d said: There’s your blowjob for the day, neighbor. Remember when he’d call it a blowjob?

Mom: Oh God. No. No I do not. But that sounds like him.

Again, we aren’t always politically correct. But we are funny. And I love that, even though my mom’s embarrassed I shared this story, we keep getting little glimpses of Dad. Today is 2 weeks since his funeral. And we find out more about who he was by those who he has helped or touched in the years.

Hats off to you, Dad. Blowjobs aren’t easy. (Don’t tell Mom I said that. She’s already mortified I told the story, period.)