Thursday, March 01, 2007

Cots? I think not.

Earlier today my boss suggested the idea of filling our offices with roll out beds so we could all stay and continue to work through the storm. To which I replied, “Sir, kindly go fuck yourself.” No, but seriously, I drove home and here’s as far as I got...

The wind is wrapping around my house in tight embrace, squeezing the life from any thoughts about the possibility of an early spring. Plus, I’ve got travel plans for Eastern Europe stuck to the hallow walls inside head. My lagging reality is always two steps behind the moment I’m in. Still, cars fill these dangerous roads and mishaps abound. Spinning around on the city streets, we feel closer to our fated mortality, it’s all very tragic, in an “I’m sitting at home with my computer enjoying the rich comforts of American imports while you’re out there suffering” kind of way.

Today I’ve realized I’m fairly uncomfortable with living outside of my demanding schedule. Although we often need escape from the drill of the day, and a snow day is often a welcome diversion from our dull, lackluster, left-brained world, what will we do with our free time?

Well, first of all, I’ve downloaded a ton of great music from iTunes and will be making cd’s for all of my favorite lovelies. Isn’t music a great way to share joy and get caught up in a silent reverie?

The wind, the music, the silence, has brought on a wave of sentimentalism, which lately comes in a flood of memories about my dad. When I was a little girl, he would fall asleep on the floor after a long day’s work and I’d curl up next him, with my arm around him while he slept until dinner was ready. I remember all the silly nicknames he made up for my sister’s and I, and the car rides we’d take down “tickle tummy” road, and all the painful little knots that formed in my stomach every time he left.

On a colorless gray morning I remember my mom calling to tell me he was dead. And then the car ride, holding back my tears, walking into my sister’s apartment, I felt like the one who had died. And for days after I lay in bed, curled up in John’s arms, wishing for the kind of comfort he could never give. And the fights, my God, they were terrific. I was drowning in my grief and poor John was swept along in my sadness. The months that followed were quite possibly the darkest, and when the nightmares persisted, I finally learned to leave the lights on.

The fact is, my dad was a complex man with a complex history, and I’ve had to think long and hard about what it has meant to be his daughter. Even so, there are many gifts from it all, which I have received in abundance, and I carry that part of him with me.

The odd part about death is that it often releases pent up energy that had been previously tied to the departed. Life is accelerated and REAL growth is finally achieved. For me, it amounted to a hell of a lot of forgiveness, which pretty much, in the end, is about love.

Forgiveness- Patty Griffin

We are swimming with the snakes at the bottom of the well
So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell
But we are not snakes and what's more we never will be
And if we stay swimming here forever we will never be free
I heard them ringing the bells in heaven and hell
They got a secret they're getting ready to tell
It's falling from the skies
It's calling from the graves
Open your eyes boy, I think we are saved
Open your eyes boy, I think we are saved
Let's take a walk on the bridge right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing baby, we already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air
And we were blessed
It's hard to give
It's hard to get
But everybody needs a little forgiveness
We are calling for help tonight on a thin phone line
As usual we're having ourselves one hell of a time
And the planes keep flying over our heads
No matter how loud we shout
And we keep waving our arms in the air but we're all tired out
I heard somebody say today's the day
Big old hurricane she's blowing our way
Knocking over the buildings
Killing all the lights
Open your eyes boy, we made it through the night
Open your eyes boy, we made it though the night
Let's take a walk on the bridge right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing baby, we already confessed
And I raise my voice to the air
And we were blessed
It's hard to give
It's hard to get
It's hard to give
But still I think it's the best bet
Hard to give
Never going forget
But everybody needs a little forgiveness
Everybody needs a little forgiveness

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