An errant flake of snow drifts lazily in front of my eyes, and I try to focus on it, shifting my weight from one frozen foot to the other. There is no relief for my numb legs and my deadened mind.
The snow reminds me of Hanukkah. My thoughts wander.
The kitchen would be filled with the aromas of crisp golden potato latkes, apple sauce, and funny, lumpy sufganiyot, dredged in sugar and cinnamon. We laughed while we played the dreidel game, and each night, we lit another candle in the menorah. “Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, who has kept us alive...”