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2.02.2015

UNDER THE GRAY

There are oh so many reasons why winter is my least favorite season.  My dear friend Dawn has a totally different view of the gray, bleak, cumbersome, cold and snowy months of winter. She and my brother-in-law have a wild love affair with snow.  I love them in spite of their obvious mental deficiencies.

My clothing repertoire is relatively narrow in its colors.  One would think that someone who loves gray, white, black and tan would love the colorlessness of winter.  It's primary color scheme is the cool vibed color gray. The landscape and sky meld together in a dirty, monotonous swirl.   Day after day.  For months on end.  

It's a rarity on the east side of Lake Michigan to get many sunny blue-skied days period, let alone in the bleakish winter months.  I knew that living here, but having lived west and south of Lake Michigan at other points in my incredible journey, it is now glaringly clear.  There is a blue sky other places.  It doesn't hide, it just comes out blue and stays for extended periods.  There is a blue sky here too, it's just hidden under a canopy of overcast and gray clouds.  It waits to appear until your spirit is sucked dry of hope and vitamin D.  It's brilliance and scarcity appears fleetingly, almost unwillingly at times.  



I've thought and thought about this unique weather patterned part of the country.  Why would anyone want to live here?  Obviously there are times where the availability of a job takes us somewhere that we wouldn't live if it were not for the necessity of needing to earn a living. Other times we choose to leave behind small and known for big and unknown.  Life is a quest to figure out our path.  Sometimes we figure it out, what really matters, and we come home.



I find myself willingly back to the region of my roots. Away I am now from sun, blue skied winter days, and weather patterns that are not as harsh, or endlessly long.  I bitch and moan.  I did last night and this morning while shoveling 18 inches of snow.  I did as well when I ran in the snow storm yesterday and returned as though I had stepped from a shower.  The gray is like kryptonite to my very soul.  Like swimming with boots on.  

Though I am a hater of the clouds, the temps, and the snow, my heart feels at home with friends, family, and familiarity. They are the sun hidden by the gray.   And, they post to the walls of my soul - giving birth to the molecules that make up big pieces of me.  

Eating dinner at my daughter's favorite restaurant last week, she commented that she loves that we are back here living.  She loves that she can connect with me in the middle of the week whenever she wants.  She loves that Doug and I can be a connective tangible part of their lives again.  At that moment, there was no gray hanging low.  The sun of my heart and soul sparkled from the privilege to be in close proximity with those I love deeply.  It was a conscious confident know that we know choice we made, despite the difficulty of details not yet worked out.

Since being back home I've been able to see sisters and brother-in-laws, nieces and their boyfriends, parents, hold new great nieces, babysit a grand kid, see kids, spend time with friends.  The sun warms my always cold body, makes life simpler, allows me to participate in the great outdoors more.  Those things are all about me. The gray though has illuminated my heart with the presence of family and friends.

I understood why people choose to live here - she was sitting across from me.

1 comment:

  1. I am right there with you.......why oh why do we live here!!! I am looonnngggging for blue skies, 80 degrees and color. But I sometimes wonder if I would be so "in love" with summer if it wasn't offset by the dreaded winter? I would like to test the idea out for a few years sometime.

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