A Blizzard and Gold
After two major snowstorms this winter, we finally had a stretch of warmer weather. The snow was melting at last. Patches of exposed ground squelched underfoot. Now, a blizzard is on the way.
Dad went out to the sauna and fired up the stove before coffee this morning. We built it over two months last winter for days like this. It’s still warm, but I should probably go down and add some wood if I want to use it again tonight.
I slept over Dad’s last night. Seth arrived around 8 a.m. to watch the Olympic final between Canada and the United States. Tyler, Annie, and Anthony followed soon after with the kids.
An Olympic Gold
When I was younger, Seth would read me the names of the best American hockey players from the pages of The Hockey News. I can still picture us sitting on the floor of the living room, flipping through glossy pages, reciting statistics. Back then, we didn’t have much to cheer for. The New York Rangers didn’t post a single winning season from 1998 to 2004.
An issue of The Hockey News preceding the 2002 Olympics.
For us, knowing that a handful of Americans were out there competing against the mighty Canadians and Russians gave us a reason to watch each game closely. We waited on the Rangers. We followed American players through box scores and rooted for them even when they lined up against New York. Every four years, we watched the U.S. fall short.
In 2000, only 15% of NHL players were American. That number has nearly doubled to 29%, but the United States is still an underdog against Canada. It showed today. Canada dominated long stretches of the game. But for the first time in 46 years, the U.S. won gold.
When Jack Hughes’ shot hit the back of the net, we roared and embraced. I jumped up onto the couch. The eruption startled the kids, and Bobby started crying. Tyler scooped him up as we watched the replays again and again.
This has been a long, proper winter.
The Coming Storm
Annie, Seth, and Ty each returned home. Mom and I met up and walked four miles around the center of Newtown in the early afternoon. She walked down from her house, and I parked behind the C.H. Booth Library. We took a winding path along Main Street, behind the middle school, through grocery store parking lots, and back to the library.
I’m back at Dad’s now. The snow is piling up. I went down to the sauna to stoke the fire and read while it heated. Jessica called, and I recounted the day. It’s already one of the nicest winter days I can remember.
Dad came down after a while. We sat in the searing heat and thawed out together. Outside, the storm gathered slowly. We walked back up the hill, steam rising off our shoulders. I took an outdoor shower and watched the snow drift down in lazy loops. There isn’t much wind yet.
The fire will need tending again soon. The storm will likely howl through the night. Plenty of shoveling and snow-blowing awaits me later this evening and tomorrow morning.
But for now, the stove is hot, the snow is falling, and after all these years, we’ve got a gold medal to celebrate.
© Elsa/Getty Images
