I’m in Chicago and it’s snowing. Big fluffy snowflakes just raining down from the sky. I was supposed to go back to Atlanta yesterday or today latest but I’m stuck here waiting out the storm.  I must say I’m not altogether unhappy about it.  I’m all cozy in my parents’ condo that sits next to a train station in the western suburb of Downers Grove.  The condo is on the top floor of a 4-story building and has a large circle of windows overlooking the town. Huge Christmas trees are lit up with lights and decorations. Steam pours out from the trains as they pull in and out of town dropping off groups of bundled up commuters headed for their cars and homes. I feel like I’m trapped in the most picturesque Christmas postcard imaginable.

Inside, the condo is decorated with all the familiar ornaments and holiday pieces from my childhood. And then there is Mom and Dad. They are 81 and 86, respectively, and as full of fun and life and romance as a pair of teenagers. This trip started off as kind of a favor. Mom and Dad came to Atlanta with my sister and brother-in-law to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. They were going to fly home but I could tell Dad wasn’t feeling good about flying after a recent medical procedure. So even though it’s not the best time to leave work, I said I’d drive them back to Chicago. It allowed me to help them get their tree up and get all their Christmas shopping bought and wrapped.  We did all that but in the end I think I was the one who received the better favor. I love our Atlanta home and life but I do miss snowy Christmases with my parents and siblings.  This stolen time with them has been a holiday blessing.

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