snowday.
So, the northeastern United States is getting pummeled with snow, and I am camped out here at Panera in Biddeford, listening to Sigur Ros and eating food, which, somehow, I got extremely hungry for this morning. I'm normally not hungry in the morning; it usually comes later in the afternoon. But, this time, my stomach hurt in a manner that was simply ridiculous. I felt the void, but I also felt my own inertia, forcing myself to sit on the couch after waking up at five to shovel Shannon's car out of the driveway, and warm it for her before she left.
Teachers usually beg for snowdays more than the kids do. And everyone begs for them for different reasons: a day off from school, whether it is monotonous or intense; a chance to retreat to a lower potential for a while; the chance to do something that is on your agenda and have the whole day; the accomplishment of making it through a short week. Whatever the case might be, snowdays are wonderful.
But, strangely enough, they are different for me. A day's a day, in my opinion, but some days just are right for stepping back, living without your face to the wind for a brief moment and seeing what's behind you.
I don't think I had ever had a snowday until I moved to Maine. And I think the first snowday I ever had I shoveled snow, and made money doing it. Pretty commonplace in Maine, but it somehow wasn't to me. It was simple. I shoveled driveways and made money. Ten bucks a pop, and away it went, into the vault of Bath Savings Institution, where I'd walk in the wintry aftermath to deposit my earnings. The first year I shoveled I made $200, to my recollection. It was a fortune to me.
And I remember the snow I saw at Maine Maritime, the first of the 2002 New Year. I had just left Bath (and Shannon) and was walking around a darkened Castine, not lonely, but being alone; I walked around and watched the snow fall all around me. I knew that I was in love with Shannon for a while at that point, but I never realized its permanence (or, simply, my wish for it to be that way) until that moment, watching the snow. For some reason, snow symbolizes Shannon and me when things were simple. We didn't have to worry about much, aside from each other, now that I think about it. All of our fights that stemmed from distance were so petty, and it didn't take long to melt them away. All we had was one another, on that front: no jobs, no taxes, no commutes to work and no reason, at least at that time, for things to be any different. We were alone with one another in our relationship, but never lonely.
Finally, snow reminds me of the things that are pure, singular. I always have those good thoughts: about how I love Shannon, and how I love my life, and would never trade anything, even for all the mistakes I know I have made and always continue to make. I think about so many things...
I think about home.
Home has meant so many different things. How on Earth did it change so fast? From my safe haven to my burden, from a place I'd always want to be to a place I never wanted to be. And all of the sudden, it became something Shannon and I had to earn, and therefore it meant much more. It is a place that I couldn't run away from, a place I can embrace and own. Strange, though, that home and family are inextricably linked for Shannon, and divorced for me. For me, home was a place for loneliness, simply because I never felt like the place I called 'home' was actually a home, but instead a house with six torn people living inside of it. Now that it is different, I can look back and realize that my idea of home was so cloudy, just because it never consisted of anything pure. It always consisted of things that resembled conflict.
Now, home is purely three things: Shannon, me, and our love. And that, my friends...that's all there is to home nowadays.
And on snowdays, there is no conflict. The world around you is white, and only makes futile attempts to change color (at least until spring). The whitewash sleeps quietly, as does the world of emotion under it, but there are still outlines left; quiet places where memories are contained under ice. I feel like we are most ourselves when we lack conflict, and snowdays are best for that.
So, I am heading home. I have a house to clean, and some sleep to catch up on. I have to have dinner ready for Shannon by 6:00, and I have a few chess games to analyze from the tournament I went to Saturday in Manchester. I am going to go enjoy the rest of my snowday. :)
Teachers usually beg for snowdays more than the kids do. And everyone begs for them for different reasons: a day off from school, whether it is monotonous or intense; a chance to retreat to a lower potential for a while; the chance to do something that is on your agenda and have the whole day; the accomplishment of making it through a short week. Whatever the case might be, snowdays are wonderful.
But, strangely enough, they are different for me. A day's a day, in my opinion, but some days just are right for stepping back, living without your face to the wind for a brief moment and seeing what's behind you.
I don't think I had ever had a snowday until I moved to Maine. And I think the first snowday I ever had I shoveled snow, and made money doing it. Pretty commonplace in Maine, but it somehow wasn't to me. It was simple. I shoveled driveways and made money. Ten bucks a pop, and away it went, into the vault of Bath Savings Institution, where I'd walk in the wintry aftermath to deposit my earnings. The first year I shoveled I made $200, to my recollection. It was a fortune to me.
And I remember the snow I saw at Maine Maritime, the first of the 2002 New Year. I had just left Bath (and Shannon) and was walking around a darkened Castine, not lonely, but being alone; I walked around and watched the snow fall all around me. I knew that I was in love with Shannon for a while at that point, but I never realized its permanence (or, simply, my wish for it to be that way) until that moment, watching the snow. For some reason, snow symbolizes Shannon and me when things were simple. We didn't have to worry about much, aside from each other, now that I think about it. All of our fights that stemmed from distance were so petty, and it didn't take long to melt them away. All we had was one another, on that front: no jobs, no taxes, no commutes to work and no reason, at least at that time, for things to be any different. We were alone with one another in our relationship, but never lonely.
Finally, snow reminds me of the things that are pure, singular. I always have those good thoughts: about how I love Shannon, and how I love my life, and would never trade anything, even for all the mistakes I know I have made and always continue to make. I think about so many things...
I think about home.
Home has meant so many different things. How on Earth did it change so fast? From my safe haven to my burden, from a place I'd always want to be to a place I never wanted to be. And all of the sudden, it became something Shannon and I had to earn, and therefore it meant much more. It is a place that I couldn't run away from, a place I can embrace and own. Strange, though, that home and family are inextricably linked for Shannon, and divorced for me. For me, home was a place for loneliness, simply because I never felt like the place I called 'home' was actually a home, but instead a house with six torn people living inside of it. Now that it is different, I can look back and realize that my idea of home was so cloudy, just because it never consisted of anything pure. It always consisted of things that resembled conflict.
Now, home is purely three things: Shannon, me, and our love. And that, my friends...that's all there is to home nowadays.
And on snowdays, there is no conflict. The world around you is white, and only makes futile attempts to change color (at least until spring). The whitewash sleeps quietly, as does the world of emotion under it, but there are still outlines left; quiet places where memories are contained under ice. I feel like we are most ourselves when we lack conflict, and snowdays are best for that.
So, I am heading home. I have a house to clean, and some sleep to catch up on. I have to have dinner ready for Shannon by 6:00, and I have a few chess games to analyze from the tournament I went to Saturday in Manchester. I am going to go enjoy the rest of my snowday. :)