Into the Storm

Into the Storm

“To appreciate the beauty of a snow flake, it is necessary to stand out in the cold”- Plato 

      My eyes ventured to the glimmering white snow blanketed on the frozen, Chicago ground. It sparkled with the luminescence of a million fire flies and rested gently on the rigid grass, silky-smooth like a flowing cascade. Each crystal glistened like the most exquisite of diamonds, their aesthetic qualities captivating my attention. The vast sheet of white sat daintily upon the earth as a queen sits atop her throne, lightly kissing the tips of the blades. Snow is quite fascinating; each flake tells its own, distinct story, yet when assembled together their beauty is even more mesmerizing.

       None of these descriptions were actually my true beliefs, this was just one of the many exercises my therapist had encouraged me to practice; yet, like the others, it had shown no signs of success. He says, “Fear is not to be run away from; it is to be confronted with new perspective.” For the past year, I had attempted all possible ways of overcoming my depression and continuing on with life. However, all was hopeless and each day I dug a deeper pit of despair. Each night brought haunting nightmares of the storm. The storm that changed everything.

      Instinctively, my eyes wandered to the picture framed on my bedroom wall. Claudia’s ice blue eyes, full of curiosity and innocence stared out at me from the photograph. Her thin hair curled into two blonde pigtails, her signature style. Gripped in her tiny hand was her teddy bear, Mr. T. She treasured that bear the way a cat adores her kittens; they were inseparable.

      I remember that picture; it was taken in Myrtle Beach. We spent hours together, Claudia, her twin Kelly, and I, wading in the ocean and taking moonlit walks along the smooth sand. It was such a joyous place, a place where I could disregard all outside pressures and just unwind in the baking sun.

      But my days of relaxation have been long gone ever since it happened, exactly one year ago today, when the twins were a mere five years old. I can never forgive myself for the events that occurred that January evening. We were preparing to drive home from dance class. Warnings of a snow storm had been given to the whole city of Chicago, not only from the weathermen but also from the color of the sky. It was murky grey like pencil lead mixed with dirt and a light snow had begun to descend from the overcast clouds. However, the twins were restless after an hour of twirling their little hearts out, and I had errands to complete around the house. So, without a moment’s hesitation, we started for home, ignoring all signs of the approaching disaster. After only a few minutes on the road however, the snowfall became heavier and now plummeted from the sky. The windshield wipers swiped frantically at the windows, but all that could be perceived was a swirling blur.

      The next thing I recall was Claudia shrieking, “Mommy, we’re sliding, we’re sliding!” Sure enough, I felt the car accelerate rapidly as it swerved out of control on the some slippery substance, presumably ice. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins and my heart skipped a beat as I desperately tried to regain the reins of the BMW, but it was to no avail. We skidded off the road at an ungainly speed and into a nearby the now three foot high snow drifts crowding the streets., Then we halted, the car suddenly halting becoming embedded in the white mass. As soon as the severity of it all began to hit me, my thoughts were interrupted by an earth shattering scream. I whipped around to investigate the source of the noise, but I was unprepared for what I saw.

      Claudia, my sweet, sweet, Claudia, lay lifeless on the back seat. The seatbelt lay strangled around her fragile body, and her face a shade of pale white like a ghost. The impact of the crash had caused her to jolt forward and her neck lay limp at an unnatural angle. Rushing to my daughter, I performed the only method of resuscitation I knew, CPR, but it was useless; Claudia was already dead. I vomited, the sour taste overpowering my mouth. “Why?” I cried, “Why Claudia? Oh dear God have mercy on my poor child!” I wept until no more tears were left in me, a sea of salty water leaking from my eyes. That was my Claudia, my daughter, now gone forever.

      I was suddenly jolted back to reality by the strange darkening of the room. The lights flickered out leaving the bedroom a black silhouette apart from the outside daylight and the bright glow emitted from the snow. “A power outage?” I inquired aloud, “But how? Why?” As I peered out the window, an answer became apparent to my question. A mass of snow descended from the sky, however, this was no “let’s make snow angels” type of storm;, it was unmitigated fury from the clouds. The whirling flakes obscured my view of the neighboring house only twenty feet away. A roaring thump attracted my attention to an uprootedA, fallen oak tree that lay uprooted, hadving murdered a power line. Panic began to escalate up my throat and my heart pulsated rapidly beneath my chest, my breaths becoming increasingly shortened. “This, this, this can’t be happening. Not again. No. Kelly! Where’s Kelly?” I swiftly hurried out the door with a speed I was unaware I possessed. My goal was established: protect my only daughter from the monster outside. I had to find her.

      “Kelly!” I yelled with urgency, “Where are you” I combed through every room in the house, inspecting every nook and cranny. With no sign of Kelly’s sweet face, my anxiety began to mount. I paused in my search, my emotions reeling with frustration and angst. I glanced out the kitchen window at the whirlwind of snow and caught a glimpse of glossy, pink plastic amid the white jungle. A sickening thought crept up my throat as I recognized the fuchsia object as Kelly’s new snowball scooper. It leaned casually against the playhouse Kelly so passionately adored, the miniature door left ajar. “Kelly must be outside,” I gasped, my entire body trembling with apprehension at this dramatic conclusion. My next step became clear: go out into the snow. However, my fear served as an impediment to my mission. “How can I possibly face the storm if Dr. Klein’s ridiculous exercises aren’t even successful?” Flashbacks of the car accident and Claudia’s limp body played in my mind like a low-budget horror movie.

      Suddenly, a switch flicked on in my mind bestowing upon me fortitude and determination to rescue my daughter. I would not allow history to repeat; I must find Kelly, no matter what it takes. “Fear is not to be run away from; it is to be confronted with new perspective!” I repeated this, the only beneficial information from Dr. Klein, as I made my final decision.

      I was overcome with adrenaline as I started towards the imposing French door, my strides long and confident. Extending my gloved hand towards the doorknob, the chill of the brass seeped through the cloth and invoked a shiver from my body. Tentatively I turned the protruding block of metal, scrunching my eyes and holding my breath as I prepared for what was to come.

      The door whooshed open welcoming me to the rampant storm. I gradually lifted my eyelids, but a tornado of white whipped around my eyes, forcing me to shield them. The mountainous blanket of snow stretched out infinitely. However, I did not allow this fact to deter me from my duty. I proceeded towards the shiny pink toy, trudging my way through the snow drifts and brazenly defying the freezing temperatures and perpetual falling flakes. Upon reaching my destination, I rested for a few minutes catching my breath after the strenuous journey. My stomach jittered as I readied myself for the culmination of my trek. “Please let Kelly be safe, please, please, please!” I crossed my fingers behind my back as I slowly craned my neck, peering into the plastic building. 

      The playhouse was vacant. “No, No, No, NO!” I wailed uncontrollably, tears streaming down my now almost frostbitten face. Any and all previous energy drained from my soul as I sunk to the ground, light headed with grief. “I tried so hard to keep them safe, but I’m useless! Claudia and now Kelly, gone! Why?” My body shook involuntarily as I rose and headed somberly towards the lonely house, no longer mine and Kelly’s. My hopes for a brighter future had been crushed by the hands of a giant. With Kelly, Kelly, d- NO, I couldn’t even think it. I entered the house with tears dripping down my cheeks and no child cradled in my arms. Through my moans and whimpers, a young voice became audible and I ceased my crying to listen.

      “There you go Mr. T. I hope you enjoy!” It took less than a second to identify the mystery speaker and I couldn’t contain my excitement.

      “Kelly” I screamed with ecstasy as I sprinted towards the dining room, the direction of the voice. Kelly sat encircled by a dozen stuffed animals, a teapot in one hand and Mr. T in the other.

      “Oh hi Mommy, I was just having a tea party. Wanna come?” her tender voice sang as she gestured for me to join.

      “Oh sweetie, I, I would love to.” Tears danced across my cheekbones this time in delight not despair. “But on one condition: Can you give me hug?”

       Kelly fluttered towards me and I was trapped in a tight embrace, my nose buried in her blonde curls. “I’m just so glad to see you,” I sniffled as Kelly squeezed me tighter. After what seemed like a moment in heaven, Kelly broke away, a countenance of fascination upon her freckled face.

      “Mommy, there’s snow on your shoulder!” I twisted around to examine the source of Kelly’s interest. Sure enough, a minute snowflake reclined daintily on my winter coat. I expected myself to panic at its sight, however an unfamiliar feeling of serenity and bliss replaced this emotion, and to my surprise, I enjoyed observing the flake. It tilted upwards and reflected the daylight seeping into the room as if greeting us hello. If I squinted, I could perceive its intricate geometric design and elegant, crystal features like glass. It twinkled with effortless splendor and a nearby wind caused it to gracefully pirouette across my jacket. It was perfectly shaped, perfectly sized, perfectly exquisite. “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Kelly remarked with inquisitiveness. My eyes left the spectacle of snow and I met my daughter’s gleaming gaze. “Yes, it truly is” I replied, and I smiled.