1977
Mon Dec 21, 2009 12:30:04 am

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Snowstorms always make me think of the blizzard of 1977 which lasted from January 28 until February 1. I was only one year and three months old at the time, but it is an event that I will never forget. Despite the heavy snowfall, my mother went out to buy groceries. It was unavoidable. She had to feed 7 people and she knew that waiting would make matters worse. Several more days of heavy snowfall were predicted. My mother took me with her, because I was too young to be left alone.

I don't know how much snow had accumulated. My only measure of height were the benches outside. The snow was around an inch less than that. Many people walked on the benches, but my mother did not. I'm not sure if she considered it too dangerous, undignified, or both. I don't recall what she bought or where we went that day. I only clearly recall what happened when we returned.

Approximately 50 feet away from the apartment building, my mother slipped and fell. It was in an area that had been shoveled. There wasn't enough snow to cushion the fall. I did not realize the seriousness of the injury right away. I tried to help her get up but I was too small and nobody else was around. After a few minutes, she got up and I saw the blood on her pants. She limped the rest of the way, still carrying the shopping bags. Blood dripped down her leg, leaving a trail in the snow. It was the first time I realized that she was not invincible.

I don't remember anything else that happened that day, but I recall that she wore a white plastic object on top of her bandages. In July of the same year, I experienced my first and longest blackout. In September, my sister started going to school. She had been my only playmate and stopped playing with me after that. 1977 was a difficult year.