I watch the snow fall this morning from my apartment's Juliet balcony. This is one of those times I wish I had an actual balcony. The air when it's snowing just hits differently. Smells differently. It's a bit mesmerizing watching the unpredictable paths of individual snowflakes on their final descent to earth. They are part of a rare bunch down here that comes maybe once a year.

The last worthy snowfall was two years ago actually. I was still married but that was falling apart. This isn't about my ex, though. This is about my kids. Back when we all slept under the same roof each night. And so when the snow came any given day, we were ready to go. That was our thing. Especially with my oldest. 'Daddy' was the one who played in the snow (and the summer rain which was much more common).

This morning is bittersweet. My kids are with their mother (as they are most days) so I'm without my playmates but it sure is pretty. I briefly video chatted with my daughter just as she was about to go out this morning. She was bundled up, ready to run through their lovely yard and leap onto cloud nine. I have no doubt her mother and new step-dad will make it a fun day with new memories in the snow for her and my younger son. And in the end, that's all that matters. I still think of my kiddos when it snows. And I'm sure we'll have a snowball fight again in the future.

You know they say no two snowflakes are alike. Each one unique. I know there are those that use the word "snowflake" with derision relating it to people. I think they conflate the idea of being unique with a sense of entitlement. That's cynical and misses the point. Each and every person you ever encounter is unique in the sense they have their own life. They have their own story, their own joy, their own sorrow, their own sense of humor and pain. You can never fully understand another soul. It's damn near impossible to fully understand your own. And you can only control how you react to this world. So be kind when you can.

In the end, we're all just snowflakes drifting unpredictably down to earth and the inevitable. We are at the whims of the cold winds. And it can be hard without some warmth. But I do love that air.