Four Feet More

We are back from Chicago, and finally I have caught up enough to post about the trip. The funeral went fine, and it was great to see family that I have not visited with in a long time. It was also nice to meet extended family members whom I had no idea even existed, but who knew of me and welcomed me with big hugs as if they’d known me for years! We’re Italian. People do that in our family. So all in all, the trip was a good one.

Except for the weather.

The romantic notions I had of snowy winters soon blew away in the flurries of freezing Chicago rain. It's all well and good to imagine cozy nights by the fireplace while fat flakes of snow slowly drift to the ground outside, or fun days making snowmen and having snowball fights. But seeing some poor sap parked on the side of the freeway, frantically scraping ice from his frozen windshield wipers as wind and slushy rain beat down on him, illustrated all too clearly the dark side of the “Winter Wonderland.”

Upon arriving at our hotel in Chicago, we all happily got out of the car and crunched through the snow. Sure it was cold, but this would be fun, right? it couldn't be worse than Russia in December! how naive we were. Eamon did his usual trick of jumping up onto the curb to "ride it like a train" (I have no idea why he thinks walking on a curb is like riding a train, but it seems to make sense to him). What he failed to see, however, was the transparent coating of ice covering the curb. When Eamon jumped up onto it, the poor kid’s feet slipped right out from underneath him and he fell, face down, onto the cold, slushy ground. After he recovered enough for us to join the family members that were waiting for us, we began walking, a bit more carefully, across the frozen ground. As we reached our family we were greeted not with hugs or exclamations of “I’m glad you made it here safely!” Instead, we were pelted with wet snowballs by my brother and his two stepsons. Welcome to Chicago.

A few hours later, we all piled back into the car to have a family dinner at Pappadeux. The freezing rain was starting to stick to the windows and mirror by this time, making navigation difficult, indeed. The wedges of icy snow blowing off the cars in front of us, and smashing into our windshield made the journey even more treacherous. However, we arrived safely at the restaurant and enjoyed a wonderful Cajun meal.

Then it was time to make the dangerous drive back to the hotel. As we approached our car, we saw that a solid block of ice had formed around the car's side view mirrors! Holy crap! When Jeff chipped it off, it looked like he was taking the mirror off with it, the ice was so thick. The door panels and handles were equally icy, and let me tell you, those cute fleece gloves from the Gap do NOTHING to keep your hands warm and dry when opening said door for your kids to scramble into the car. In fact, the gloves actually freeze to the car, resulting in a struggle to free your hand from its frosty trap, while not slipping and falling onto the icy pavement below.

Once we arrive safely back at our room, we cranked up the heat and settled in for a snug night’s sleep. The weather was supposed to be warmer the next day, so things should get better. What we didn’t realize was that warmer temperatures also mean melting ice.

The first crash of ice falling from the roof by our bedroom window was alarming. The next 10 crashes were annoying. The enormous chunk of ice that smashed into our window and wall was terrifying! It jolted Jeff and I awake, and we had a hard time getting back to sleep afterwards. I am not pleasant when my sleep is interrupted, and I so badly wanted to find someone to get mad at for making all the noise! However, there is not much that can be done about Mother Nature, so I buried my head under a pillow, hoping to block out the thunderous interruptions.

My brother Joe didn’t clue into the fact that falling ice was a natural occurrence due to rising temperatures. He actually called the hotel front desk, complaining that “some kids” were throwing blocks of ice down from the floors above. After the crash that hit our wall, he jumped out of bed and got dressed, determined to take care of the problem himself. It wasn’t long after he went outside to confront the "punk kids" that he realized his mistake, and returned to his room (hopefully feeling very foolish – I like to think of this as his Karma for the snowball greeting).

The next day was the funeral, and it went really well. It was a Catholic mass, and I had to do the first reading of the service. Luckily, I got through it OK, and then was able to sit down and relax the rest of the time. My brother had to do a reading as well, and I smirked quite a bit at his expense when he finished his speech with, “The word of the Lord,” and began walking back to his seat. As the priest and congregation responded “Thanks be to God,” Joe froze in his tracks, and looked over to the priest with an “Am I done?” expression on his face. After the priest smiled reassuringly at Joe, my brother grined, did a jerky, “we’re cool” head nod, and resumed walking to his seat. I’m only surprised he didn’t flash the priest a “thumbs up” as well.

All in all, the service and the visit to Chicago were fitting ways to say goodbye to Gramps. I hope that wherever he is, Gramps was able to look down on our family gathering and see how much he was loved and how much he will be missed. I'm also sure that somewhere, he is shaking his head in amusement over our reaction to the frigid weather and Joe's heathen response during the Catholic service.