Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
For a few hours today, walking was a bit treacherous. Within a couple of hours the snow came down with fierce determination making sidewalks, parking lots and roads particularly dangerous.
It started out a cold and dreary day. It was certainly not spring like as it should be for March 26. Although the possibility of snow was in the forecast, I along with others weren't all that concerned.
Mid-morning I surprisingly slipped into my black suit as opposed to stuffing myself into it. It has been a goal of mine to fit back into that suit. I wasn't exactly wanting to prove that point by having to attend a funeral. Nonetheless, I paid my respects to Mr. Gelven in the attire fitting for a man I had great respect and admiration for.
While a church full of family and friends bid farewell to Mr. Gelven, the snow fell and quickly piled up. Immediately following the funeral, we were shocked to see how much it had snowed. It was then that the fun began as we all tried to make our way out of the parking lot. Cars were slipping and sliding into the street. Vans and cars were getting stuck in the parking lot, mine included, with no where to go. While young men helped a number of elderly folks get out of the parking lot and I stood there drenched from the falling snow, I decided the best thing for me was to get my car back in a parking space, go inside to dry off and call on my brother to pick me up and safely get me home.
As I was back at home, hanging up my suit to dry and watching the snow continue to fall from the sky at a rapid rate of speed, all I could think about was the day that Mr. Gelven had told me about his days as a meteorologist. I was surprised to learn that about him and I even chuckled when he told me. I asked him if he was any good at predicting the weather. He laughed and said, "No worse than the guys on TV".
What a beautiful white carpet the Lord prepared for you today Mr. Gelven. Farewell kind sir, farewell.
No comments:
Post a Comment