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Writer's pictureAnnie McGeary

THE SNOW BLOWER

My eyes opened and it was Friday. The view from the bay window that sits directly in front of our bed is that of a tree. I don’t know what kind of tree, and it is literally dying, a little bit every day. But that day it was the most magnificent site, covered with snow so as to look like a shadow of itself. The beautiful white of the newly fallen snow, with the brown bark peeking out below, and then just a pop of color from the fire engine red bird house John had hung in the fall. This was the day. This was the day he had waited all winter for. The day that he would have started his new snow blower with heated handles and paraded up and down the driveway like a king. There had been a few dustings in January when he took it out “just to see how it ran,” but not this. This was a true 6-8” layer of winter. This would have made him happy. Maybe this would have made him happy.


For me, it brought instant tears. To have so much, to be surrounded by my children and my family, to be sitting in our beautiful house, to have the perfect winter morning, and to seemingly have nothing without him. Maddie had taken up residence in my bed, so once again I headed to the sunroom. It was as welcoming as the day before but more breathtaking. I barely sat on the sofa when I heard a familiar sound from the driveway. It was the “shhhkk” of shovels hitting the macadam. I got up as quickly as I sat to see from where the noise was coming. There were three of them I think, all with shovels, all working diligently to clear the snow from our driveway. I didn’t recognize them. Neighbors I thought. Saints that morning, really, to remember that I might need help. I stood back a bit not dressed for greeting people, and then I noticed Todd, my neighbor and friend from high school. Yes, the others must be neighbors I haven’t yet met. The tears hadn’t stopped. Back on the sofa, with thoughts of John and his snow blower, I sobbed.


The kids had been through a lot the day before, dealing with the news, greeting and talking to friends. I tried sleeping a little until they all woke up. Kat, Brendan’s girlfriend arrived late in the day, the day before. Having lost her dad three years prior I knew this loss would hit hard, and I knew they would be there for each other. All of the kids now awake and gathered once again around the kitchen island, I suggested that it might be a good idea for us to get out in the fresh air - take Bella (our dog and one of John’s best friends) and head to the parkway for a walk. All in agreement, we found whatever boots we could muster up (Kat may have worn sneakers because she has much smaller feet than any of the McGearys) and packed into my car.


There was barely a soul on the snowy path that day. Our own little slice of winter wonderland, it was as though you could hear a pin drop, as though everything had stopped for that hour we walked. A short distance beyond the covered bridge, standing as stiff as a pencil in the middle of the creek was a white crane-like bird. We all noticed it. And as we got closer it took flight, skimming just above the water’s surface until it stopped and perched itself upon a rock in the water ahead of us. As we neared again, its wings spread and with a small thrust from its legs it was air born, gliding effortlessly. The bird stayed with us for the entire walk, even after we made the turn to walk back. We all decided that it had to be John there to join us. Mimicking our circumstance, we could only admire it from afar, never allowing us to get close.


During our walk I assure the kids that we were going to be OK. That this was going to be unbearable, but we had each other and that we would be strong. I encouraged them to cry when they needed and to never hide their feelings. I let them know that we would all go to see a therapist together on Monday. I didn’t want them to be angry with John, they needed to understand, that like a cancer, something in his brain took him from us. I assured them that I would be OK and that I would remain in our home.


On the way home from the Parkway I asked that we stop by South Mountain Cycle In Emmaus. John and the owners, Chad and Heather, had become friends over the years and John had just finished helping them install the wood floor in their new retail space. I wanted to introduce myself to Chad (oddly enough we had never met) and let him know how much his friendship meant to John. Two months prior, John had also got me hooked on the coffee there. Stopping would allow me to get a cup.


Inside the store I ordered and asked if Chad was in. The young man behind the counter pointed to the man who was seated not three feet away and said, “that’s him.” Chad turned and stood up. I said, “Hi Chad, I’m Annie McGeary... John’s wife.” He shook his head and reached out to give me a hug saying, “I know, I was at your house this morning.”

If you are depressed or anxious and are having thoughts of suicide, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

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