Cold Water

It’s a nice hot July day; the sun makes everything hot and sticky. Even the breeze (that’s supposed to cool us down) isn’t. I head inside for a glass of ice water, as I don’t like warm water. As I fill my glass right up to the rim with ice, I then add water and watch it fill every little spot it can get into. Then as I put the glass up to my lips and take a large swig of ice cold water…I feel refreshed. I stare at the glass and literally watch the ice cubes melt in the hot sun and start to wonder why I like my water so cold.

I tried to think about it awhile longer and then remembered why I enjoy cold (and I mean cold) water. As a child we use to spend a lot of time at my grandfather’s farm, he didn’t have any power or plumbing in his place. In the winter time the well would sometimes freeze, despite how deep it was. So the alternative was to collect snow, nice clean snow into a rain barrel and it would melt and then there was your water.

I remember we would have to go to the highest point in the yard and find the cleanest place and then we’d truck the snow back and forth and back and forth…for what felt like a whole day. But once the barrel was full, our job was done. By that time we’d be parched craving water and then it was our turn to enjoy the fruits of our labour. We would put the scoop in the barrel and pour it into a glass and drink the ice cold water. It felt so good going down and quenched that thirst so quickly that I realized from then on I liked my water ice cold.

The funny thing is that I also drink tea (thanks to my grandfather); again I like it piping hot. I think it was for the same reason as he didn’t have heat either. But when it comes to hot drinks, they need to be piping hot and for cold drinks they need to be ice cold. Weird how I got that from my grandfather…

I come back to reality and look at my already melted ice and head back into the house to fill it up again and smile just a little as I feel a sense of my grandfather in me.