What the what is a snow squall anyway?!
I guess I'm experiencing it. There's snow-ish. Snowish stuff coming from the sky, barreling through the air, at whatever angles it might choose. The news station says it's the coldest windchill in at least 22 years. I just wonder, is that on this very day? For every day of the 22 years? Or how does this compare to the arctic blast from early 2021 that kept us all inside (I do mean ALL... I had 22 critters in the back room by day 3 of that arctic blast) and made natural gas prices sky rocket. Is this one really colder? I'll tell you, I need a shower, but the floors are cold, the air is cold, my feet are frozen and I don't expect that Y'all are coming to visit. So I'll just let my hair be all gnarly and dreadlock-y for a couple more days. I'll hunch down in the heat and enjoy it because as warm as it is when our make shift little heater runs, it will cool off at an alarming rate when the heat stops blowing. When the heater runs its like standing in front of the fire place and soaking up all the heat until it's too hot and it gets uncomfortably warm. I could move over one chair and it wouldn't blast me quite as directly but it's strangely comforting. And-- I know this is my own weird grief thing-- it makes me somehow closer to my Dad. All those years. Bundling up. Going to work for big energy. or small-time work for his own company. getting those farmers back up and running. The power of energy. Electricity. Such a noble calling I'd say. And in the end.... bundling up and headed to the coffee shop. So he could stop and help a neighbor who's car won't start or push a stranger out of a drift. Or help his family with the farm emergencies that just happen when the temperature is arctic and the wind starts blowing. When he got home, he'd strip down from all the layers. The layers that could not keep that air from chilling his bones and he'd hunker down in front of the fire until at least the first couple layers of frozen chill would thaw from his bones. Then he'd add more wood and sit in his chair and soak up heat in what I can only describe as a sauna of our family room and wait for the chill to subside. So I sit here and soak up the heat and remember my dad and how he loved to be a helper and how he'd always do the right thing, even when it meant leaving the family he loved to get power restored to some community member on Christmas Eve while we put our celebration on hold waiting for him to return to us. And I feel a melancholy. It is the same melancholy that never leaves me. The one I was born with. The one that I blamed on others for a long, long time until I realized that I don't know the beginning of the sad. It was always there. It's not evil. (Though I sometimes forget that). It just is. It always was. And it will always be there. Sniffing around trying to grow. And somedays it grows. I feel that melancholy. and I know in my heart that it's a part of me. that it just is. and I'm sad for my dad. he left us. and I'm still not sure how to navigate this world without him. I'll never be the difference-maker he was. But he didn't know he was this hero kind of guy. He knew he was flawed. He knew there were so many parts of himself that he never made peace with or made sense of. I think, in the end, with the help of his clergy, he came to know more about right and wrong and lines that shouldn't be crossed. That some things that feel like love do more damage and tear down the soul, of others, but also of himself. I think this because he knew on some level the difference between right and wrong. But for so many years there was this part of him that didn't get it. And he saw every failure. I don't know if he ever forgave himself for ways he failed.
This is irony at it's fullest in my life. Because people tell me that I'm awfully hard on myself. But the truth is, sometimes I'm over the top with strange or wrong ideas and they don't feel wrong. And I'm scared I'll never learn my lesson and be the person I am supposed to be and it terrifies me. I want to make a difference too.
I know I should take water to the birds. I don't want to. My weather app says it's -5º and feels like -32º. I'm guessing they really could use their water filled earlier (like now) and again later (like dusk or close to it). It will freeze in between. The "barn" is an open-sided shed and it's definitely warmer than outside! But it's not that warm. I'm sorry now that I didn't get a tarp stapled to the front to keep some of that wind at bay. *sigh*. The cats are invited to the back room, but haven't taken me up on my offer yet. Well, one kitty of the three did. But I wouldn't let my orange tomcat bring his breakfast with him, a large black bird still steaming and freshly killed. I'm glad my cats are savvy and can take care of themselves. But it's cold enough that I would let them inside for sure. This is my little bitty mission in life right now. The people are not frozen.... thank God. And the animals need looked after. That is my little farm life. Not the life-changing mission of a teacher. Not the energy giving mission of an electrician. Just a simple, tiny calling. One I can easily overlook and say, "I have no purpose today."
God grant me the serenity.
and give me a purpose. please. feeling useless is only magnified in the midst of this squall.
