Cold weather is tougher to deal with as I age. My body is more sensitive to the chill, as blood vessels constrict more with age, reducing warmth, which makes me feel the cold more intensely than I used to. My joints can ache in the cold, and arthritis flares are common, per studies, making even simple movements feel like a daunting task. This increased discomfort is compounded by the hassle of icy sidewalks, which not only present a risk of slipping and falling but can also lead to serious injuries that could be life-threatening, especially in older adults. Additionally, the psychological toll of winter can further exacerbate feelings of isolation and discomfort, making the desire for warmth and safety all the more pressing.

When I was young, we used to spend hours in the newly falling snow, marveling at the pristine white landscape that transformed our neighborhood into a winter wonderland. We excitedly made snowmen of all shapes and sizes, dressing them with colorful scarves and hats that added a touch of personality to our frosty creations. In our ambitious quest, we attempted to build an igloo, huddled together as we packed the snow tightly, forming the walls of our icy fort. Unfortunately, we never had much success because of the ceiling or roof, which always seemed to elude our grasp, leaving our structure incomplete. Despite the chill in the air, we would stay outside for hours, our feet growing numb but our spirits high, as we laughed and played. By the time we finally trudged back into the warm house, our feet were a few degrees above freezing and our eyes felt like they were on fire from the glaring sunlight bouncing off the snow, rendering us snow blind. No wonder I had a cataract when I was fifty; those winter days filled with joy and adventure were etched into my memory, along with the price of such carefree revelry.

Then growing up came into play, and with it, the realities of adult life began to unfold. Driving to work on treacherous ice and thick, heavy snow became a struggle, transforming many mornings into an anxious chore filled with uncertainty. Shoveling thousands of sidewalks over the next 40 or 50 years felt like an endless battle against the elements, a chore that wore on my spirit as the years passed. Cold weather, once a source of excitement and joy in my youth, became a bitter reminder of the burdens I now bore, diminishing the thrill of snowy winters and turning them into a relentless cycle of labor and discomfort.

When I retired, we thought of moving to Phoenix like our neighbor did, lured by the promise of sunny skies and warm temperatures year-round. However, family ultimately won out, as the ties to our loved ones were too strong to break. This reminds me of one holiday when I casually mentioned to my stepdaughter the possibility of relocating to Phoenix, expecting her to be enthusiastic about the idea. The expression on her face was unforgettable; her wide eyes and dropped jaw conveyed a mix of disbelief and disappointment. I could see that the thought of leaving her behind would have crushed her spirit. I don’t think she would have ever forgiven me if we moved away, uprooting our lives and leaving memories behind. Therefore, after deep discussions and a lot of heart, the decision was made to stay in our home, surrounded by familiar faces, sharing laughter and warmth, even if it meant enduring the biting cold of winter and just moaning and complaining about the chilly weather during those long months.

How do you feel about cold weather? https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1944