I would have kissed Lyle if I was in the studio with him when he gave the Safety Talk on KHNS. Well, I would have liked to, but I’m a tad more reserved than that, still, I might have hugged him. My volunteer fireman retired teacher neighbor does not use words like mindfulness, presence, or self-care. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t do yoga. But he could surprise me. He plows snow with the same tractor he tills his tidy garden with. As I drove home from town, there he was on the radio, reminding us all that it has been a hard December and January. Bitter cold, five– or is it seven feet of snow? And now this week, pouring rain and those really big winds. It felt like a hurricane (down at the Eldred Rock Lighthouse they peaked at 83 mph.) Avalanches blocked roads, and ferries and flights were canceled. We dug out the buried culverts.
Some places flooded. I am not alone in nursing sore muscles I did not know existed until I used a roof rake to pull the snow off our roof so the wet load wouldn’t collapse it.
Then there is the unbearable weight of the news. The internet, radio and TV still worked. In addition to the local emergency alerts, the world is on fire. Venezuela. Greenland. Minneapolis. The shock, horror and cruelty. Murder. The President ranting insanely.
This is how Lyle says to deal with heavy weather. Do what you are able to, and give yourself a break when it’s not everything you had on the list. Prioritize. Remember to breathe. Keep a sense of humor and your regular sleep and exercise schedule. Consider laying off the cookies now that the holidays are over. Try to be social even when you have a lot to do. Invite a friend over to help you get your place dug out and then go to his house and help him. That way, he said, the chore is easier, plus you get to have a few hours of fresh air while talking with a friend.
And then, suddenly it seemed, the rain and wind stopped. Feet of snow disappeared. The sun even came out for a day.
The roads opened. The ice melted. Planes are flying and two daughters and four grandchildren are heading this way on the ferry from Juneau right now. There is a swim meet this weekend, the Seahawks on TV, an Arts Council local talent showcase at the Chilkat Center– and home basketball games against Metlakatla. My oldest granddaughter is the captain of the Lady Glacier Bears. She turned sixteen this week. Sixteen! If I’m not careful, I’ll blink and she will be thirty. (And I will be? Don’t even think about it.) I have got to pay more attention to all that I love.
So, here I am – torn between saving the world and savoring every moment I have left in it—as E.B. White sort of wrote.
Which is why after I swam this morning, I spent a few a minutes calling all three members of the Alaska Delegation to tell them to investigate and de-arm ICE, signed a World Relief petition asking for the same, basically– (go to worldrelief.org for more information) and finished an obituary for a really good guy— Diz was kind, funny and capable. He volunteered for all sorts of community events. He was almost 78, a Vietnam veteran and member of Haines People for Peace. His big heart failed.
Now it’s time to walk the dogs and tidy up before the kids arrive. I think I’ll order pizza for between the swim meet and games tonight. The young crew at Alpenglow Pizzeria has been open throughout the siege and that’s something to celebrate.
