This morning, as I was drinking my coffee, looking out the window at the fresh snow that blanketed the patio overnight, I was taken back to my days living in Colorado. I was thinking about snowmobiles, snowshoes, skis, plow trucks, and all the survival tools for mountain living I no longer have a use for. My mom did hang on to her snow shovel, which I have inherited. I will put that to use later for what looks like about five inches—judging by the pile on top of my chiminea.
I remember one time we were snowed in by a twelve-foot drift for over a week. A few of those days, I snowshoed the two miles out to my car, which was parked out at the highway, pulling a sled behind me. We borrowed a couple of snowmobiles, but that proved to be disastrous. First of all, they required gas and pull starting. I remember my son’s advice as I put my gloved hand on the throttle. He said, “Ride it like you stole it.”
Apparently, I hadn’t stolen enough snowmobiles to know what this meant, so I promptly buried it about 30 yards away.
Now, if my mom had been behind the handlebars, she would have known exactly what he meant—speed was her thing.
Today, if I had to rely on a snowmobile to survive, the odds would not be in my favor. By the time I got it started, I could have gotten there faster on snowshoes anyway. Plus, I never liked the noise or the smell of gas. Give me a pair of cross-country skis any day.
Anyway, what came to mind first—before the snow—was a story about a bear. My husband Mickey loves to tell this story because it’s one of the few times I was truly rattled. His imitation of me is one of John Candy in the Great Outdoors when he says, “Bear! Big Bear!!!” I don’t know if that’s really what I sounded like, but it’s funny when he tells it.
My version, however, is a little different—which I usually don’t get to tell, because he can’t help himself from intercepting it with his version. But alas, he’s still in bed.
My bear story starts with other bears.
Small black bears that would wander through the trees and willows, looking for something to eat in the late spring. They were adorable. When I would happen to see one disappear into the willows, I would tell my kids to go chase it out so we could get a closer look.
One afternoon, when Mickey and I were driving in, I saw a beautiful cinnamon colored bear. I stopped the car, jumped out, and ran after it. Mickey yelled, “What are you doing?” I yelled back, “There’s a bear, watch the other side of the willows.”
He thought I was nuts, but I wanted him to see the color of the bear. I considered them harmless. They were little and always ran away. Even my mom would chase them off with a broom when she saw one.
So, a few weeks later, when our dog let me know there was one at the back door, I got up out of bed, grabbed a broom, and went to chase it off, in my underwear. When I waved the broom, it stood up and came after me. I ran inside, slammed the door, and ran upstairs to get Mickey. He had already heard the commotion and was standing at the top of the stairs. I didn’t see him and ran right into him, which startled me even more. This is where he usually takes over.
About that time, we heard the strangest crying sound coming from the chicken coop. We looked out the window, and two tiny cubs were sitting on top of the framed wire panels.
Mickey went out to the porch and yelled at Mama Bear. She quickly called her cubs and ran off to the trees.
It still makes us laugh.
I told a very short version of this story in the song Tears of Laughter, along with two other stories—one about a bowling ball, and another about a horseback ride. But those stories for another time.
When I play this song live, I say this is a song about the three men in my life—memories with my sons, and Mickey, that still bring me to tears of laughter.
Tears of Laughter excerpt by Trisha Leone Sandora Do you remember that bear at the back door? I went out to chase it off in my underwear Instead, it came after me I skipped steps up the stairs Ran into you And jumped out of my skin And I smile every time I think about it Sometimes I even laugh out loud These days, tears of sorrow come easy But tears of laughter are such a welcome relief Tears of laughter, tears of laughter
The only recorded version I have of the song Tears of Laughter is this demo from a few years back.