hoarfrost (ˈhɔːˌfrɒst) — n
Also called: white frost; a deposit of needle-like ice crystals formed on the ground by direct condensation at temperatures below freezing point
This morning I thought of you while I was driving to work, looking out of my freezing windows and taking in God's glory. Hoarfrost all around. Every single surface was fuzzy and freezy. It was gorgeous. There was fog in the air so thick I could see it hanging there in front of me.
I remembered the time you declared how much you love hoarfrost. And (in true Rachel fashion) I immediately told you that some such word called 'hoarfrost' did not exist. What in the heck was that, I mean, I was an English major. Yeah. An English major with the thickest skull you've ever seen. We looked it up. And it became what Mindy would call a paper-tearing moment [another time, Folks, another time].
Then life moved me to Da Plains without you, Mom. And I had occassion to walk the residential streets in the little town I lived in, to a friend's house or whatnot - and very, very often I walked through fog. It's a Plains thing in the Winter, I'm told. I fell in love with hoarfrost... and every single time I see it, it makes me think of two things:
1) I can be atrociously stubborn, a know-it-all, and competitive... and I'm sorry that I ever doubted your effort to teach me something.
2) I think of YOU. And I miss you until my eyes sting.
Thank you for always putting up with me, for rolling your eyes and loving me anyway. For understanding me. For knowing that I love you beyond all of the miles, beyond being right or being close. You are my mama and I am so grateful that God chose you for that job.
Love you forever.