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| Christmas Chair |
Jewish Christmas actually began on Dec 22 with a call from my parents and a near-simultaneous text from my sister/brother-in-law: Have we heard and are we powered? (We had not, of course, because we were.) Reading about the extent of the damage (250,000+ in the dark and--worse--in the terrible cold) made the three of us increasingly nervous about what suddenly appeared to be a precarious situation at best: Should we eat all our food immediately? Should we take advantage of the hot water, while we still have it? Should we stock up on groceries? Should we start emailing the neighbours?
Beata and Will came by that afternoon to keep warm and to deliberate: To move or not to move the kitties? Temperatures were plunging and we decided that, despite the added stress, a move was for the best. Kitties were taken--with belongings that outnumbered those of their owners'--and established on the top floor, secured against the primary occupant of our bedroom: Dooneh.
My parents decided to brave it out at home that night (hoping, I assume, that the power would return shortly). As it did not, they came over the next day to defrost and to describe the apocalypse in their front yard: broken tree branches, downed wires, ice, snow, and general frozen misery. It was a warm and lovely afternoon filled with stories, noise, my mother's iPad (which is a presence all on its own), and laughter.
You were sorely missed and your phone call arrived just in time for my mom to make her special 'what's wrong with your voice when you talk to her' face.
My uncle's power returned that evening and my parents left to spend the night at his place while Dooneh continued to fume about the situation upstairs. We slept in auntie Maryam's room for the second night; I tried hard to keep my other half in place and not hissing at the master bedroom door.
The morning of the 24th we decided to play Jewish Christmas by ear. The tradition of opening gifts at my parents' home, followed by a sushi lunch, followed by an afternoon movie, was somewhat out of the question since Richmond Hill was still in the dark and--quite frankly--everyone was exhausted. Beata and Will debated: To go or not to go to Stouffville the next day for dinner with Will's parents? I believe the decision was no until the first Christmas miracle occurred: Beata's neighbour texted with news of light.
We took them home that evening and welcomed my parents back when it was unofficially decided that the 25th would be spent at our place. Dooneh cautiously approached the bedroom, which was temporarily free of intruders, but remained resigned to the fact that the third floor was still off-limits. We spent the night in our frozen living room--frozen due to inadequate insulation, or a heat imbalance, or both--near the fireplace, comfortably and happily cocooned in wool and fleece.
A handful of other Christmas miracles made this a particularly eventful year. It snowed beautifully and sunnily that morning. We found an open sushi restaurant (no small feat downtown on Christmas day, as I now know) that delivered to our door. Parvaneh, who hates sushi, actually had something to eat, because we ate at home. I finally got my period, which was either very late or very early, and successfully pushed the cramps forward into the following day. We did not run out of tea or bread.
A lively couple of days drew to a close as my parents' power returned that evening and the temperature inside their home rose from 6C to .. I will say .. the usual 15C.
