Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Feels Like 9

Every morning rain, snow or shine my girls and I ride bikes to take Emily a mile round trip to school at 8:30 in the morning. Kevin repeats the ritual at 3:20 to pick Emily back up from school. We do this to get by on one vehicle while we patiently endure these difficult financial times, all awaiting Kevin's successful completion in getting his BA in Physics.


When I woke this morning I figured today would be no different. We have ridden to school in the snow, on the ice, in the rain, the snow, wind, and heat. But I also did not check the temperature before heading out. I prepared the bikes, Emily came outside to wait for me while I helped Lydia get her coat on. When Lydia and I came outside all bundled and ready to leave I found Emily standing on the steps not even budging. We hadn't even left the safety of the stairwell of our apartments and Emily was already crying, frozen like a Popsicle, exactly where I left her when I went to help Lydia. I encouraged the girls gently and lovingly to just get on their bikes and peddle, that they would feel better once they were moving.


With every rotation of the bike peddles a big tear drop would streak their red, frozen cheeks. They were trying so hard to be brave and strong and help me by just getting to school. They could not take the cold, they are so young and little. I had not realized the effect the cold would have on them. We continued all the way to the school. And the entire way they cried and cried and cried some more. And I continued to coax, encourage, and severely apologize.


I remembered back to when I was a kid and walked 2 miles to my school in snow, rain, and freezing winds. Missouri is much more humid and the wind there in the winter cuts like knives straight through any protective gear you might be wearing. This morning felt just like it did when I was a kid. I did my best to keep my spirits up and not give into the bitterness of the morning weather. I avoided looking too closely at my children and their chapping lips and cheeks, I avoided paying to close of attention at how slowly they peddled their bikes due to frozen legs and toes, I avoided hearing their cries and pleadings to go back home, not because I have a cold heart or because I am insensitive, but because I could not stand the pain I was putting my sweet girls through. They should not have to do this. All the while I was peddling to school I was wracking my brain trying to think up some way to avoid this same ordeal on future wintry mornings and still get by on one vehicle.


On the way back home from dropping Emily off at school we passed by a young girl bundled up from head to toe, all you could see were her eyes. I said to Lydia, "now isn't riding a bike faster than walking? We could be walking and we would be even more cold." She replied with the most ingenious answer, "No! Riding in a car would be faster!"


The moment we got home I stripped Lydia's winter wear off and stuck her in my bed, which to her is the coziest of all the beds, bundled her up like a burrito in my blankets and went outside to finish putting away the bikes. Not even a minute had gone by when I heard blood curdling screams coming from inside. I ran in and found her at my bathroom sink just bawling her little eyes out, her hands bright red and frozen. All she wanted to do was run them under the water to defrost them but she couldn't turn the water on. I assisted in melting her hands and comforted her all the while. Once her hands were feeling better I wrapped her back up in my bed and went back out to finish putting bikes away. My heart felt like her hands. I wanted my heart to stop hurting for my daughters, I wanted their pain to go away, but I had absolutely no idea how to fix this, aside from some warm blankets and snuggles. How will we face those future winter mornings on bike or foot? I would do fine, but they would not. Lydia kept wishing it were hot. Hot weather is all my girls know. This bitter cold is so new to them.


Once the bikes were put away in the storage closet I went in to Lydia, we snuggled up in my bed and read a condensed version of Oliver Twist. What an appropriate book to read, and yet at the same time was incredibly humbling. We have a house, we have electricity, we have a heater that works, we have food, warm clothes to cover our bodies, we have bikes that work and do get us where we need to go much faster, we have each other, we have finances to meet our needs.

For an hour Lydia and I remained snuggled up in my bed defrosting our back sides, toes, and hands. I think that the time with each other defrosted us much faster than any warm blanket ever could.


To top off my worries of more days like these I got an update phone call from my father who lives in Missouri. Sunday, early morning, all of my home town lost power do to a huge ice storm that all of the area was inflicted with. I immediately arranged for my parents to stay at a Marriott hotel with my discount. Today I learned that the hotel had lost all power on Monday and my parents were once again staying in an uncomfortable situation. Power is still out at their home and there is a tree branch in their dining room ceiling. The house temperature is 38 degrees and they cannot stay at the hotel because it was all sold out beyond the two days I was able to get them. One of my sisters who lives close by too lost power and stayed at her in laws house until their house caught on fire due to a closed flew in the fire place. I have another sister that lives a little further out. She has power, a fire place, and plenty of room. Sounds like there will be a bit of a gathering at her house until things clear up. We are all supposed to get together in just 2 weeks for a family get together. Apparently another storm is due this evening. My heart goes out to all of them and their suffering. I wish there was somethind I could do.


These past few weeks I have been really miserable and wallowing in that misery because I am a spoiled selfish brat. These past few days have opened my eyes to how truly blessed myself and my family really are. Now all these trials of mine don't seem so huge, they seem trivial. I want to do something to ease the suffering of all the many people who have so much less than I. So, although the temperature outside was actually 19 degrees, with the wind chill making it feel like 9, I know I can make it through my first winter here in Boise, with more sensitivity to others and the fact that life could always be much worse.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ditto's to your remarks about the blessings. I too had to remember that during our time without electricity. You are braver than I for riding to school in the snow. I guess I never completely got over the anger I felt while having to walk to school in the cold. Even as the years passed and there was a second car sitting at home and I was old enough to drive. ANYWAY--- what about the bus? Is that completely out of the question? Believe me, I know how difficult it can be to "survive" with only one car. You will make it!

Cassandra

Suzanna said...

Em cannot ride the bus because you have to live over a mile away. We live a half mile away. Bummer.

Anonymous said...

It is always painful for me to see my children in pain and sorrow. Especially when I feel that it is through my actions that they suffer.

I suppose all I can say is to endure and keep on praying. When I was engaged my mother said to me, "One day you will be thankful you were raised up poor." I of coarse thought she was a mental case at the time. However, I often think of her comments during times of hardship because I feel like I can devise a plan to survive! It does also help me to realize how blessed I am.

Suzanna said...

I'll just say ditto. You are absolutely correct these kind of moments always make me more grateful. I must add that the weather has not been so cold since this one day. For that I am grateful. Either it hasn't been as cold or we are toughening up or I am better prepared now with scarves and warmer gloves.