The weather forecaster came on the television to tell us that the number of expected inches of snow had been increased. We were now getting 12 to 18 inches of snow. Meteorologists had been telling us for days about the upcoming snow impending storm. I watched as the first snowflakes started to come down. Earlier in the day, I had made sure that my shovel and bucket of salt were readily accessible. I had even put out the hat that my daughter had made for me for Christmas and my warm comfortable gloves. I would finally get my chance to use them.
I was ready. I was prepared.
“Man makes plans . . . and God laughs.”
Of course, God heard my plans and laughed. It had to be a big belly laugh, because, when I was sitting with my wife on our bed, I felt a shot of pain shoot up my back like I had been stabbed in a dark alley. I was trying to help her register her parents to get their Covid vaccine shot and I moved too quickly in the wrong direction. One minute I was teasing her about her slow typing, the next, I was curled up in a painful ball.
The pain came out of nowhere, but I recognized it immediately. I knew it wasn’t good. I have back issues and find myself in pain when I tweak it, resulting in me scurrying to the bed for comfort. The pain goes away eventually, but usually not until it turns my life upside down.
Yes, definitely, uh-oh.
“Life is short. You have to be able to laugh at our pain or we never move on.”
I looked at my wife sad and depressed. I was looking forward to the snow. Sure I would be spending part of the day shoveling, but I would get to play in it too. Now I would be stuck inside. I’m sure she wanted to laugh out loud at my klutziness, but she knew better, knowing that the job of cleaning off our sidewalk and driveway would fall to our son, daughter and her.
Fortunately, my back started feeling better in day or two, but I lost the chance to finally get out in the snow. Life has a way of working like that. We don’t have the control that we think we have. Sometimes we just have to be patient and let things come to us. Here’s hoping I get another chance to play in the snow. If not, there’s always next year!