I had forgotten....
how thoughtless I was as a young person. I thought heat just appeared in my home at the twist of a thermostat, allowing me to walk around in a tennis dress in January and sleep with my window open a crack in December to ‘hear the sound of snow.’ Of course, all my parents’ admonitions focused into crystal clarity the first time I wrote my own check to the gas company.

This had totally slipped my mind until I woke feeling feverish in the middle of the night. Indeed, we have now passed into that time of year when I can tell that the older girls have come in from a Friday night in the city without listening for car doors, the front door, the rattling of dishes - the winter time signal that all are home safe and sound is the thermostat turned up to shake and bake.

I am hopeful that in a year or so the older girls (I’m not talking about you, Em - I know you’ve got it under control.....) will have places of their own. And my prediction is that I’ll be told to wear a sweater when I come to visit and I might even wish to keep my jacket on during dinner, because, “you know, Mom, we really have to watch the gas bill.”