It was well after 9:30 a.m. that John & I dragged ourselves out of our delicious bed & togged ourselves up in layers of warm clothing, ready to shoulder our shiny bright new snow shovels & dig out our driveway & sidewalk - and the daunting mountainous mass where plows repeatedly dumped load after load of the stuff.
We looked outside the front door - and behold! What to our wondering eyes did appear? They were clear!
Which of our neighbors channeled my brother, Peter? For a couple glorious, unforgettable years, he became the very model of the caring compassionate present brother I'd imagined. When winter storms hit, he took pride in getting over here in the predawn hours, digging us out - with a shovel! - then vanishing before we could heap praise upon him.
Was it Tony to our left, or Otto, two houses up, or an unknown neighbor? Last year, I would have guessed Jay, from next door, but he is a newly wed & am pretty sure he stayed snug at home, several towns over from us.
It wasn't Peter, who's still in the hospital, snowbound like the rest of us.
But whichever kind soul it was, however he - or she - did it, they have our thanks, along with my gratitude for triggering lovely memories of a precious time with a beloved brother.
Credits:
1 & 4) 123rf.com
2) yardwork.toro.com
3) goodnewsnetwork.org
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