Twenty-six years ago
Bowing our heads against the wind and swirling snow, Daniel and I stepped from the warmth of the diner. The icy accumulation continued to fall around us as we trudged through the parking lot, our boots sliding, unstable within the frozen precipitation as we made our way to the rental car. Peering beyond the blowing and drifting snow, many more inches had accumulated since we entered the diner. Its heavy weight bowed the pine branches—a rather beautiful sight if I weren't so worried about getting back to Chicago.
The exit to the parking area was hidden, buried beneath the blanket of white. The only indication that the road back to the motel still existed were the quickly filling grooves of tire tracks.
As the car warmed, I fastened my seat belt around our baby. “I n
