So, the other day, it was big news in Boston because the city surpassed the old record and set a new one for most snow (for Boston) in a single season at 108.6 inches. The previous record, as I had been telling my mom and dad a couple of weeks ago, was 107.6 inches, which was set in the very memorable winter of 1995-1996.

Besides 1996 being the year my friends and I graduated from high school, it was also the winter in which I was diagnosed with my cancer, and it was that winter in which I began the toughest part of my treatment. But if there is one thing I remember more about that year than the constant tests, needles, surgeries, and chemicals, it is doing all of this in some of the most impressive storms I have ever seen. In fact, I believe, on the day in which I was diagnosed (January 2 1996), we had a storm. If my memory serves me correct, we went right into the city that day--to New England Medical Center--and I stayed there for the next week or so as I began a series of tests, biopsies, etc. But I think I had no new clothes, books, or anything for at least the first few days because it was too stormy for my mom or dad to make the trip into the city from Easton/Bridgewater. Perhaps my dad remembers; I dont think my mom reads this blog

I remember the snow that winter and how it looked--so beautiful and out of place--falling peacefully and gracefully onto a roaringly busy city; from my 7th floor (west wing, to be exact) hospital window, I would lie in my bed and watch it and it would bring me a peaceful feeling. That winter brought all types of snow--the dry fluffy stuff and the heavy, wet, fluffy stuff. My mom, in an attempt to bring humor to an otherwise dark situation, used to remark at all the 'slush' on the roads and sidewalks, but she would pronounce the word 'slush' as if she had a speech impediment--she would emphasize the 'sh' sound at the end; it was funny. 

I remember my buddies--Jay, John, Kevin Pray (Tim was working...lol) and others wanting to come visit me in the hospital, but having their visit constantly interrupted by bad weather. I remember that NCAA basketball season (perhaps the only basketball season I have ever paid attention to in my whole life) because that was the year that UMASS went undefeated all snowy-winter long, all through the March Madness, only to lose to Kentucky in the championship; my roommate that week was a young 11 year old boy from Kentucky who was up, staying at NewEnglandMedicalCenter, to seek treatment for his aggressive brain tumor. We watched the championship game in our room and he rejoiced--he was a giddy Kentucky fan--and then he died two weeks later. 

And, mostly, I remember that snowy season coming to an end--like all winters will eventually come to an end--and I remember my favorite nurse of all time, Linda, just KNOWING that I needed to get outside, since it was a gorgeous early April day and it was probably in the 60s. Down the elevator we went--me, my mom, and Linda--and out onto Tremont Street we stepped--I was resplendent in my hospital johnny, and I was attached to an IV poll via my wrist and my infusaport--two hoses bringing me heparin for my blood clot and zofran to prep me for my chemo later that day. I had no care in the world, and I had no shame to speak of as I stepped graciously into the sun, that gorgeous, heartwarming son, and the world stopped.

 I am crazy to try to remember what I was thinking about that day; I have no idea. It was probably something about graduation or chemotherapy or what girl I liked that week (still Susie by the way), or whatever. But I do remember the victorious feeling that we all feel when we overcome a 'season.' Particularly a season, a winter, that was as hard as that winter was. The record stood, after all, for nearly twenty years before it was broken this past Saturday. And now here I am, nearly twenty years later, in a new place--a new state--watching a record setting winter that is still not over. But, as we know, snow will continue to fall, seasons will continue to end, new seasons will continue to start, and the sun will always find a way of melting the ice, snow, and other obstacles that keep us so very locked up.....

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And then there's this goon and her fat, black cat.....

Playing QUIDDLER JUNIOR with Callum lately--a card game that is kind of like Scrabble...but dare I say more fun and more fast! He loves it and we look forward to playing more!

Paw Patrol Mania has infested the GoldsmithHouse; the kids are probably at an unhealthy level of obsession at this point...haha...they watch the videos and then use their figures/vehicles to role play their adventures for hours!