Wearing Dresses in the Snow 

(published in Girlfriendz Magazine October 30, 2012)

By Graziella DiNuzzo

It didn’t take long for snow to get inside my boots, but it took forever to melt. I remember the piercing feeling when it would land on my bare skinny legs and work its way down the oversized clumsy rain boots I shared with my sisters. The chunks of snow and ice would lodge somewhere around my ankles adding discomfort to my already soaked Catholic school socks that had long since drooped inside. But I loved playing in the freshly fallen snow, regardless of the fact that I would return inside almost frost-bitten.

As soon as I would get outside, it would take about five minutes before the snow would begin to taunt me, forcing me to choose between the absolute joy of creating my snow art or the comfort of a warm radiator. I chose to frolic as long as possible or until Mom would scream for us to come inside. As a little girl, my “wardrobe” consisted of my ill-fitting Catholic school uniform which I would wear all day until I changed into my nightgown, and a few dresses, one with a weird Gypsy-looking pattern. I didn’t notice that I didn’t own a pair of pants. I was raised a Sicilian girl, in the moment and poor.

As I write, this I’m listening to jazz music and avoiding the constant media drone that has been interrupting the airwaves to talk ad nauseum of Hurricane Sandy. I am one of the lucky ones. I have electricity and my home was unscathed. In fact, I have an orchid plant that didn’t move an inch on my patio table. I had nothing to do with my good fortune.

In the days before Sandy, I watched a reporter stand next to a skinny tree blowing in the wind, warning of winds picking up, and today, the day after Sandy, I see photos of the boardwalk blown out to sea in Atlantic City; my old subway stop in Times Square completely under water, and 50 houses burning to the ground in Queens, New York. Days before Sandy, most stores had sold out of bread, milk, bottled water and batteries. None of those things would have stopped the fires, water or winds.

I read one post on Facebook where a friend said she and her kids ate through most of their food provisions the day before Sandy hit. We will never be fully prepared for life’s disasters, no matter how big or small.

My mom and dad survived WWII and the German occupation of their small town of Ali Terme, Sicilia on the Mediterranean. They lived through starvation and bombings. When they arrived in America in 1956, they appreciated everything America had to offer: supermarkets, consistent electricity, running water and indoor plumbing. To this day, my parents don’t take anything for granted. They have chosen to live simply, making their children and grandchildren their priority along with fresh food daily. Growing up, we were never prepared for anything. By the time my dad would find the flashlight, the batteries inside would not only be dead but leaking. When the blackout hit New York City in the 70s, we lived for days watching the looting and insanity of greed from our front porch. Mom figured out how to cook whatever was perishing in the fridge. It was summertime and the tap water was brown because the kids in the building would keep the Johnny pump (fire hydrant) running all day and night. We survived.

Every once in a while, Mother Nature reminds us who’s boss. Hurricanes like Sandy are dangerous and deadly. But the fact still remains that we are a nation of spoiled people who demand instant gratification and more calories than we need. We insulate ourselves from reality and feel entitled to decimate our resources so we can live our drive-thru lives—always on the constant go—with our Styrofoam containers. It’s a frenetic lifestyle that we demand because of the demands put on us. We waste water and kill trees.  Young children go to birthday parties at man-made, overly chlorinated indoor water parks (inside hotels!) where they eat a “happy” chemically laden meal and then return home to the electronic mind control of violent video games. I’m sad that my young adult children will never know what life was like without an iPhone.

We have no choice but to accept what comes our way, and appreciate and respect what we have. Sometimes we have to wear dresses in the snow.