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The return to Ohio was better than the first. Everyone that should have been there was there. For those who were able to go in October, it was easier. We knew what to expect; however, this was the first time for my parents. Last time the phrase of the trip was, “We don’t do that here.” This time it was, “That’s what we did last time.”

Since it was the beginning of January us Florida people were praying for snow. In November my brother had said quietly, “Well, if she has to die… maybe I’ll get to see snow for the first time?” Bear, who loved snow, was tickled by that possibility. When we landed at the airport if you squinted you could see minuscule flurries and nothing more. I prayed harder. :)

We got to see family again and had to make arrangements again at the funeral home. I think the thing I was most surprised by was how good my grandmother looked. She had looked so bad at the end, no thanks to the cancer, that it had to have taken some sort of miracle to get her to look like herself again. Well, except the lip stick. She was wearing pink lipstick, and I don’t recall her ever wearing lipstick in my lifetime. It made my mother and I laugh. And her rings. Those were absent now obviously, and I don’t recall a single moment of my life where her hands hadn’t been decorated by a plethora of rings. As you perused the room, you could find each one gracing the individual hand of the ladies of the family.

The flurries were relentless, but they were too small to make any covering on the ground. The same was true for the day of the funeral. We greeted family members as little flurries continued to fall. As nice as it was to see family again, we really wished it would have been under different circumstances. An hour into the viewing portion of the funeral something caught my eye from outside the window- the flurries were becoming actual flakes. My brother and cousin ran outside to try to scrape a handful of snow off of everyone’s windshields to make a snowball. That’s all they got- a snowball.

We loaded into the cars to head towards the cemetery. The closer we got to the cemetery, the harder it snowed. We turned onto the road the cemetery was on, and the snow kept on coming. Dad finally started crying. We got our snow. We laid Bear in the ground amidst the swirling snow. It was the coldest I had ever been, but the scenery was beautiful. Flakes dusted our lashes and entwined themselves in our hair. The ground was finally covered in a thick blanket, and everything was silent.

We breathed a sigh of relief when we got back to the hotel. Again, we had made it. I don’t know why were surprised by it at that point. God kept proving himself over and over again. We spent the evening in the hotel lobby surrounded by family members simply telling stories and sharing laughter. It was good for our souls. The snow was good for my soul. It was still coming down, so I took time to take a long walk outside the hotel in the untouched snow. My footprints were the only ones. As I looked behind me at my footprints I was reminded how the single set of footprints as far back as I could see represented how God had been carrying me since October 1.

The evening wound down and people started retiring for the night. At ten, as much as we were ready for bed, there was a nagging in the hearts of the young at heart for something more. The day wasn’t quite finished yet. So we donned our jackets, bundled up, and ran outside. My dad, siblings, cousin, and I began an epic snowball fight. The snow was untouched, and the parking lot was mostly empty- the perfect scene for us mischievous ones. We were all bubbling up with gut-wrenching laughter. A nice reprieve from our gut-wrenching mourning. As I paused and looked around, I realized how much fun everyone was really having. My siblings were playing in the snow for the first time in their lives, my cousin was eating up the time with cousins, dad was releasing his inner child, and I was just soaking up the moment.  You wouldn’t have known that we had been burying a loved one roughly six hours earlier. After an hour of tossed snowballs, pathetically small snow men, and sparkling snow angels, we headed inside with smiles plastered to our faces. God is so good. He brought laughter to us in our mourning. It was the perfect ending to a not-so-perfect day.