We brought the toaster into the living room so we could toast our pop-tarts (Gilmore Girls food) by the fireside and sip our lattes (Gilmore Girls food) and steep ourselves in episode after episode. As the hours passed, we added a log to the fire now and then, we kept watch on the rain that was supposed to turn into snow, we got water to drink, we wondered to each other where the story would go while we put the next disc in, my beloved husband was drawn into the circle when he returned from a jam session, we fixed homemade pizza (Gilmore Girls food-tho’ that would never have been homemade Caleb reminded me) for supper while the long-watched for snow arrived, and then we really snuggled down for the last few hours….
window for months, hoping to draw the snow our way)
Just a few minutes into the next to the last episode…as our hope was growing for a happy and satisfying ending, the electricity began to flicker and then went out in a final-sort-of-way. We had been lulled into such a place of comfortable unreality, that we had to scramble for flashlights and to fill water jugs and do all the usual preparation-for-storm things that we do.
I did what I needed to do in a grudging sort-of-way, all the while wishing the snow had been a hot-chocolate-and-sledding-sort-of-snow instead of this worrisome kind with no running water and eerie flashing lights outside.
As I helped my anxious mom to bed, and then lay in bed later trying to sleep, I thought about the distance there can be between our fantasy of …life…snowfalls…parenting and daughtering….and the reality.
Of course, with the dawn came brightness-of the day and my spirits….but still no water or electricity. We discovered that the weird lights were a downed powerline at the edge of our hayfields and I decided to drive my mom and I into Williamsburg where she could be comfortable while my guys kept the home-fires burning.
But I find inspiration in what I have been seeing as I sift through the photos of the birds I took yesterday before driving into town. In the midst of the deep snow and cold, while their winter-lives must be harder than ever, they sing and seek nourishment and bring joy to us. I am sure that there is a very helpful metaphor in there somewhere.
And how about this fellow? He makes me want to try harder to maintain my sense of humor and adventure when I feel impatient or fearful….which I have been feeling more than usual lately. But that is all a part of life, which is sometimes a blizzard, when you want a gentle snowfall.
Soon enough we will all be together again, electricity restored, hot water on tap, Twizzlers (Gilmore Girls food) and popcorn at the ready for the last hour or so of wonderful escapism. And life will continue to give me lessons in balancing fantasy and reality with grace. Please send good wishes to my husband who just called me on the phone to say that his fantasy of no burst pipes has been dashed with the discovery of a broken pipe in our well-house. When you read this tonight, deario, may your repairs have gone smoothly and all the other pipes stay strong, so we can return home soon.
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