That Four Letter Word S--W

I had a good day yesterday.  That's odd for South Dakota.  Although perhaps it's not as odd as I make it out to be on this blog.  The problem never has been really South Dakota, the problem was always me.  South Dakota does make me crazy.  South Dakota does make me sad.  South Dakota has drug me to the pits of depression. However, it's really not because South Dakota is some how inherently evil.  It just is like oil and vinegar, or any other two elements that can never fully integrate, I am not a good in South Dakota.

It's fine to say that South Dakota can't change for me, to say that it is me who has to change to accommodates it's ways, it's weather, it's idiosyncrasies, it's people.  But I can't.  I've tried. I can however, learn to navigate this hostile terrain safely.

There was a bit of rain yesterday that was a harbinger of the snow to come.  I've been checking weather.com, accuweather.com, weatherbug and the national weather service.  All with the anticipation of the dreaded four letter word, snow.

When I was a kid, I think I loved snow.  I remember building snow forts.  While I pine away with romanticized visions of life in Brooklyn, Brooklyn has changed perhaps even more than I have.  There are but scan few Norwegians left in my old neighborhood.  8th Avenue is a China Town.  The 17 of May parade, still held in Brooklyn, now marches in a different direction on a different Avenue. Salem Gospel Tabernacle is no longer Salem, it is Sunset Park Community church.  There are no string bands or Smörgåsbord or Juletree Fests.  But it still snows in Brooklyn.  Snow seems to be a constant in my life.

I had a conversation about snow today with my husband.  It really wasn't about snow.  It was about me and snow.  I've been doing all this weather checking because I have to head south again for class on Saturday.  I was contemplating do I leave tomorrow or Thursday.  Two days of driving in a little 2003 Chevy Cavalier that like me, is feeling her age.  I've driven in extreme snow many times and survived.  But I'd rather not do it again.

Cows, South Dakota and Snow - all synonymous

Oh I signed on for this so I supposed I shouldn't complain.  But here is where this all comes together.  Snow can be predicted but is always unpredictable.  A slight change can dump more snow or less snow.  Today's snow will not be like tomorrow's snow.  The snow in Brooklyn is a different experience than the snow in Missouri.  The trace snow in Tennessee does not compare to the mountains of snow in Connecticut. And of course nothing is like the powdery whiteout blizzards of South Dakota.

I want predictable.  Oh not that I'm not fun loving and like adventure and new experiences, I do... but when they are done, I want predictable.  I want to know that if I plan to go to Tennessee on this day, that's the day I'll go.  I want to know that if I plan to get up in the morning and do this or that, that by the time the day is over I've done this or that.  I want only occasional changes in my life-not constant the every day something changes patterns of my life here.

Thats the problem here in South Dakota -- besides the cows and the rudeness and all the other things I complain about, the real problem is me.  I want some stability.  I want to know where home is.  I want to not have my life reordered and changed.  Like the rapid changing weather patterns here in this Storehouse of Snow, I find the changes paralyzing and depressing.  If the weather has to change, can it not change so fast? Can I have a warning that it's changing?

My husband's job makes extreme demands on him.  He's become a soldier - no I don't mean he's joined the military, I mean he is a soldier.  He's always ready for the changes and demands. He sets aside his emotions and just does it. He never checks the weather reports.  He never considers whether the weather might change.  He just packs up and goes.  I can't do that - that's why he's adjusted to South Dakota and all the places we've lived so much faster than I have.

Snow is coming - change is coming - and it keeps coming - the cold dark depression of winter is setting in to South Dakota.  I'm not ready for it.  I don't think I will ever be ready for it.  But it will come nonetheless.  I will drive tomorrow, or the next day and go south.  I will have Thanksgiving at "home" - if it is home? in Tennessee.  Then I'll return to the snow and leave again in a few days.  Such is life right now -- constant change impinging on a life that wants stability.

Until then, I guess I need to lace up my boots, button my coat, tie my scarf and navigate through another South Dakota winter.

It's Enough

I am in Florida. The sun is shining. The water is nearby. I can see palm trees and green. I get on a plane today and go back to South Dakota. I don’t want to go.

I am working very hard to accept the place where God has planted me but the truth is I’d rather stay here. I know my life isn’t in Florida. I actually know my life is not in Nashville full time for now. I believe I will return to Nashville and I look forward to that day, but for now, my life is in South Dakota.

There is a chance of snow in the forecast tomorrow for Brookings. I will leave this sun and beauty for flooding and cold. I will drive twice tomorrow to Sioux Falls because the things I need to do aren’t in Brookings.

I am not sure what South Dakota has for me or what I have to give to South Dakota. I just have to believe, as I return, that this is where God wants me. A dear friend talking about his own living situations said to me that he looks at as if he is a soldier and God has him stationed at a particular place.

I am not crazy about the military metaphors but I guess it fits. I enlisted in the service of my King a long time ago. That means I don’t always get to choose everything about my life. When God opened the doors for my husband to South Dakota, He knew that we were a package deal. This may feel like part of the “worse” in the “for better or worse,” nevertheless that’s what I promised.  I suppose it isn’t the worse. I can think of many things we’ve been through that were a lot worse.

I’ve said a few times that the problem with South Dakota is not the weather. However, today it is. I don’t really want to go back to the cold. I don’t want to go back to loneliness and isolation. But God has a plan, and I have a husband I love. I’ll get on the plane today to the land of snow.

Maybe God doesn’t have anything for me in South Dakota. Certainly there are times I feel like that. But is that important? Is it just about what I do? Or is that I am learning more and more about myself? Is it that I am more in love with my husband than I have ever been? Is it that for the first time in 32 years we have lived alone together? All of those things are special gifts. 

It’s enough.

Galoshes

The bare ground is beginning to show in South Dakota. The piles of snow are black and brown. They are ugly.  The local news evidently had time to fill. Taking a rain gauge, they melted a foot of snow in it to show the amount of water produced from the melting snow.  In a “duh?” moment, the anchor said but that water is brown! Of course it was, it also had sticks and other debris in it.

Yesterday, the trip across the Wal-Mart parking lot was a bit like navigating around streams and rivers. One lake filled most of the area we walked. I thought about galoshes.  I wondered why no one wore them anymore.  I imagine if I poll the people walking into Wal-Mart, all but the very old would even know what galoshes are any more.  I like the sound of the word galoshes.

I thought about being a kid in Brooklyn when the snow was melting. There would be rivers in the streets. The storm drains would back up because of the volume. Every paper wrapper carelessly discarded, along with leaves and other debris floated quickly to the storm drain. Sometimes you couldn’t get across the street without getting your feet wet; unless you listened to your mother and wore galoshes.

I thought about the boys at PS 94 whose mother’s would make them wear those bright orange raincoats when it rained. They looked like miniature crossing guards or police officers.  With only their faces exposed, covered from head to toe they would be completely dry once they shed their rubber skin. Puddles would form in the coat closet as they noisily dripped on the wood floors.  My galoshes were never pretty. Pretty was expensive. My family stuck with basics. My galoshes would have looked something like this:

It was always hard for my little hands to get those galoshes over my shoes. It was worse when the school bell rang signaling it was time to go home. Mrs. Dickinson, my favorite teacher at PS 94 would complain about people who were absent when we wore our galoshes. She would look at us and say “Where is Bobby or Nancy today? It’s only rain! Are they "sugar cubes” that will melt in the rain?” That alone was motivation to get to school on rainy days. I didn’t want Joyce to be substituted for Bobby.

It’s a grey ugly day in South Dakota.  The fog was so dense you couldn’t see last night. The temperature above freezing will bring more melting and water.  More debris will collect. 

I think it is sort of like that with my soul. My soul was covered and washed white as the snow.  And yet, debris remains in my life. Some has been there a long time. Other has recently collected. As the snow melts, I see that debris.  It's brown, black, ugly and dead. As it is exposed, the rain and force of the melting water needs to wash it away. As the March winds blow, it will push more of it away. Finally, in April, the showers will come. They will wash away the remaining debris making way for new growth in my soul. Nevertheless, I will look for some galoshes to protect my soul as the winds, the rain and adversity continues.