We’re close, right? Not I’m-Dreaming-of-a-White-Christmas close. No, no. I’m not a fair weather friend. I fully and enthusiastically support you all year round, not just over the holidays. Granted, there are some moments in May when I lament your arrival…but really, you’ve worn out your welcome at that point. It’s just rude. Otherwise, I thought we had a Ruth and Naomi relationship going on here. “Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.” That was our motto. Life was good.
Now…image my surprise when I leave the green plains of the greater Albany area, start driving west and find you in all of your frozen white glory blanketing the ground! Adorning the branches! FALLING FROM THE SKY! Snow…I have to tell you…I am a woman betrayed. I don’t understand.
The only explanation I can think of is that you must have missed the memo: I MOVED!!! Snow, I’m not in Western NY anymore! I’m just four short hours east! You must not have known otherwise you would have come to visit me here. Please, come visit. I’m begging you. I sit in the living room downtrodden as I look out the window past the Christmas tree and watch your lame sibling, Rain, accumulate in puddles. Come on, now. There is no carol named, “Let it Rain, Let it Rain, Let it Rain!” No one is walking in a Soggy Wonderland. This time of year is all about you…and you are nowhere to be found. Scratch that…you are to be found precisely an hour away from here…hanging out without me.
Don’t worry…reconciliation is an option. All you have to do is come back home. Please, please come home for Christmas. No hard feelings. Just come home.
All I Want For Christmas is You,