Today was the first snow of the season.
Every year, meteorologists act like they got some secret memo telling them to hype this moment like it’s the Super Bowl of weather. “Snow incoming!” “Snowflakes sighted!” “Winter Storm Watch!”
And sure… it is pretty. The way it dusts the trees, softens the edges of the world, makes everything look like a postcard. But somewhere over the years, snow stopped being a big deal to me.
Or did it?
Because there’s one person in our family who still prays for snow like it’s her full-time calling: my daughter Sarah.
California Roots, Midwest Winters
Growing up in California, snow was more of a “drive to it, play in it, and leave it behind” kind of deal. I could enjoy it without having to shovel it. Ideal setup, honestly.
But becoming a dad changed that. Snow became more than weather — it became memories.
The Great Daycare Snowstorm
One of my favorite stories goes way back.
The Celica was long gone by then, and I was driving my 2006 Toyota Highlander Hybrid — a beast in the snow. On this particular morning, the roads were chaos. Cars stuck everywhere. People sliding. Myself? Just cruising along with two bundled-up kiddos in the back.
We made it all the way to daycare… only for the daycare lady to look at me like I had absolutely lost my mind.
Everything was closed.
Schools. Businesses. Daycare.
Apparently, the snow had shut down half the world — except for us.
So I did the only logical dad move: called into work, said I couldn’t make it, drove home, bundled up the kids, grabbed a couple of their friends, and headed straight for the hill by the high school.
That hill wasn’t just a hill — it was a chapter in their childhood.
We sledded until our legs wobbled. We laughed until our faces hurt.
One time, we even convinced my mother-in-law to go down the hill. She refused at first… but if you know me, you know persuading is kind of my specialty. She finally did it — and the pure joy on her face made my whole heart warm.
Eventually our sledding kit included a Stanley full of hot chocolate and slices of banana bread. We’d stay on that hill until every ounce of energy was gone. Those were golden days.
A New Chapter: Ski Slopes and Grown-Up Adventures
Kids grow up. The hill got smaller. Life got bigger.
These days? Snow adventures look different.
Sarah found herself an amazing young man who absolutely loves skiing. And now he’s the one leading the winter adventures. They don’t just hit the local hill anymore — they hit the slopes.
We’ve joined them a few times, including a trip to Cascade Mountain in Wisconsin. I’ll be honest — I am not a skier. Knees and gravity have a complicated relationship at my age. So I stuck to the sledding hill they had. And let me tell you… a conveyor belt to the top? That beats dragging sleds up the high school hill any day.
And yes — Jacob used to jump onto the sled when I wasn’t looking. Some things never change.
Sarah’s gotten really good at skiing, and watching their adventures unfold — whether in person or through photos — fills me with pride and nostalgia.
One year, they took off in Dylan’s truck with a camper on the back and went full snow-camping mode. Skiing by day, campfire vibes by night. Living the dream, honestly.
Sarah learned early that adventures are meant to be shared. And she lives that truth well.
Today’s Snow Was… Quieter
Today wasn’t one of those big adventure snow days.
No hills.
No slopes.
No campered-up getaway.
If I had asked them to go sledding, I know they probably still would’ve gone just to humor me — that’s the kind of relationship we have. But sometimes a simple day is good for the soul.
So we stayed warm, watched a few holiday movies, and let the snow fall outside the window while the memories of all those winters drifted back like soft flakes.
Here’s the Thing…
Snow comes and goes. Kids grow up. Seasons shift.
But the adventures — the real ones — stay with you.
So go have some adventures with the people you love.
Make memories that’ll warm your heart long after the snow melts.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what really matters.
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