Bleh. That's all I can really say. It doesn't feel like the holidays without some cold weather and snow. Waking up in the middle of the night to walk the dog in pajama shorts and a t shirt and not being cold really doesn't make sense for me in December.
What also doesn't make sense is the randomness of existing. Yesterday I found out that my dad's boss of over 30 years died in a car crash. She was 59. My dad works for a small company in rural Nebraska, and without an owner we don't know what this means for the future. But for now it's hard to worry about whether or not my father will be losing his job. Because his boss will be deeply missed by my community back at home. She has three kids, and multiple grandchildren. It's shocking and hard to believe.
My dad is also 59. I'll be going home in three weeks to help him celebrate his 60th birthday, along with my sister and her daughter.
I find myself wishing for snow, wishing for the holidays of my childhood, the safeness of memory. My mother always used to imitate Dorothy Gale from the Wizard of Oz by saying, "People come and go so quickly around here." And it's truer now with every year that I live.
So when I go home in a few weeks I'll be wishing for snow, and the quiet is creates when it envelopes the flat hills and sparse trees of Nebraska. My hope will be to savor and appreciate every snowy moment.
What also doesn't make sense is the randomness of existing. Yesterday I found out that my dad's boss of over 30 years died in a car crash. She was 59. My dad works for a small company in rural Nebraska, and without an owner we don't know what this means for the future. But for now it's hard to worry about whether or not my father will be losing his job. Because his boss will be deeply missed by my community back at home. She has three kids, and multiple grandchildren. It's shocking and hard to believe.
My dad is also 59. I'll be going home in three weeks to help him celebrate his 60th birthday, along with my sister and her daughter.
I find myself wishing for snow, wishing for the holidays of my childhood, the safeness of memory. My mother always used to imitate Dorothy Gale from the Wizard of Oz by saying, "People come and go so quickly around here." And it's truer now with every year that I live.
So when I go home in a few weeks I'll be wishing for snow, and the quiet is creates when it envelopes the flat hills and sparse trees of Nebraska. My hope will be to savor and appreciate every snowy moment.
4 comments:
I'm so sorry to hear about your father's boss. That's terrible news. I will keep all of them in my thoughts!
Just remember that with snow comes freezing winds, slick roads, and frozen nostrils. I'd love to trade places with you this week, but I guess the grass seems to be greener, right? :)
I'm also sorry to hear about the news. Hopefully when you see your family it'll help you remember what's truly important in our lives- the other people in them. I'll be thinking of your family this Christmas!
Isn't it funny how life reminds us to savor the small moments? I hope you have snow. We're due for some up here soon, too.
I'm in my house, I can't leave because my car is stuck in my parking spot due to the fact that a major blizzard is going through Edmonton right now. You still want snow? The worst part? I have NO M&Ms. Yep...that's my biggest issue.
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