Leaving things behind

The winter storm of 2013 continues to roll across the Eastern Seaboard blanketing that side of the continent in a thick white mass of snowy coldness, stranding many, knocking out power to many more and letting all know who care to pay attention that nature is the great equalizer – and tempting fate with her designs is folly.  Snow banks devoured cars abandoned in haste, plows and salt trucks became newsworthy heroes, and the transplanted weather persons sprouted up in blizzard conditions to report by the second something we here on the prairie barely give a passing thought.

We shrug and continue on into our February, concerned for friends and family affected by delays and power outages, marveling at how almost 3 feet of snow can fall in such a short time and how paralyzing it can be when it does, and wonder why certain places seem to get hit harder than others, if the Gods have truly lost their minds and are consciously picking favorites this time around.  Travel restrictions and outright bans are in place in various locales, so crews can dig places out and make roads safe and get the power flowing again, bans ignored by many first thing Saturday morning since the snow had stopped and the sun was shining and the car needed gas in case, in case what they don’t really know, but they certainly didn’t mean me with that travel ban stuff did they?

rch.drwinters.net

My neighbor was found yesterday afternoon in front of his house atop a 6’ stepladder, 3 sections of aluminum tubing connected in length with a wide blue plastic rake secured to the end grasped in his hands as he stood and cleared the accumulated drifts from the rooftop.  That’s where he was when we left for the boy’s hockey game just after lunch, and upon our return some 5 plus hours later the fruits of his labor were evident in the now-visible shingles that hadn’t been seen since sometime in November.  Of course the ridge and highest parts of the roof still had an outline of thick bands of packed snow, and now my roof next door looked completely cocooned compared to his, mine untouched and silently secure waiting for spring.

It was a road game for the boy’s team yesterday afternoon, the last league road game of the season – game 26 of a 28 game schedule – 2 final home games this week to end the regular season before we escape the longest losing streak any of us can remember with a tournament trip to Phoenix on Thursday, staying a week in the desert hoping the 24 game skid after staring 1-1 gets left behind in the sand with the cacti and memories of good times with friends.  But that’s still on the horizon, and there was still the matter of game 26 to settle – vs. the likely first round playoff opponent – a bigger, faster, more skilled team made up of leftover parts of two previous teams – but leftovers with skill and size and an impressive record compared to the long, dark shadow of futility that follows our team.

In the end it was another loss on the score sheet, but as has been the case all year the score doesn’t really give a true indication of the facts – how the game was close and back and forth and yes the boys don’t clear the front of the net or check with any great thundering presence – but that’s all part of how we got to where we are – and yet the game was still a competitive struggle, and could have gone either way at the beginning of the third, and sadly went the way so many of the games have this year, one bad goal followed quickly by two or three more and suddenly the previously close contest has slipped out of reach, and a losing team content and complacent with losing again, runs out of time.

A few bright spots on the day though – the boy scored his first goal of the year, heck, his first of three years – the defensive defenceman is not known for his offensive prowess, and a fluttering shot from the point bounced and found it’s way through the opposing goaltender’s legs and in the back of the net to make the game 5-2 with 3:08 left in the 2^nd.  I almost missed it, spending the first 2 periods testing out the new camera before our trip South, got a picture of him just before he received the puck at the blue line, set the camera down to grab a quick swig of coffee, and watched his shot as it headed toward the net, not ever thinking it was going to find it’s intended target.

He seemed more stunned than anyone – this isn’t the kind of thing his game consists of – and this year not many of this team can say they’ve scored many more – but received the celebratory hugs and high fives at centre ice with a shocked smile and I’m sure a certain amount of relief behind it all. 

His mother, when informed via text that her boy had scored, cursed and used bad texting form in return, upset that she chose to stay home this particular afternoon and mark papers instead of making the trek to Selkirk, and felt the sinking feeling parents do when they miss important milestones in the lives of their offspring.  She’ll get over it – maybe.  Mothers hold that kind of guilt with them in those hidden places of their souls, and torture themselves much more than dads do – though men don’t openly admit it as much or suffer it so personally, and she’ll greet him later with a huge hug and warm embarrassing embrace congratulating him and reward him in the way mothers know best – by making him a cake – since all women know that guilt can be assuaged by chocolate.

I’ve been busy these last few weeks after fighting off the ridiculous flu over the holidays – the one that cost me three weeks and left me gasping for air on New Year’s – and my desk this morning shows how busy I’ve been.  It is a lifelong habit come home to roost, the piling of possessions on my desk in times of pressing projects and long days on site, no down time for paperwork or filing or processing of daily life – just stack it over there on the least piled area and I’ll look at it later, please.  And before you know it’s been a month and the quiet chaos closes in and you’re forced to confront it or ignore it for a few more days.

But with the hockey trip coming up quickly this week, it’s time to face my fears and spend some time putting order to the piles and clearing some mental space in the process.  Find the passports and the maps and the odds and ends required for a weeklong trip, find some room on the desk and in the filing cabinets and find myself again in the calmness.

It’s been a busy few weeks but it’s been a time of creative energy, making something out of nothing as I finish a basement renovation for friends, the bar my current task, and the week has seen me staining and applying depth and colour to flat raw wood in a way that once it’s all complete will generate a certain life into the finished piece and into the entire project.  The friends know and understand that I’m leaving parts of myself behind in the process, in the details and design that a few months ago made little sense to them but today my vision is shared and accepted with a knowing smile and appreciation and the trust I was shown has been rewarded in the outcomes.

It’s how I work; it’s who I am.  I leave a trail of my time wherever I am able to fully integrate myself into my work, and in the process create a greater understanding of my place and where I fit into this world.    I’m hoping I’m affecting that kind of pride of workmanship and care in the boy’s behaviors and approaches to the world – it certainly seems to need more of that these days – but time will tell.  His understated and modest acceptance of his accomplishment yesterday on the ice may have been shock and surprise or it may have been his true character revealing itself in a quick moment of center-stage. 

Big, important things like character and values get buried under the stresses and pressures of everyday life, and you need to spend some time clearing away the piles of snow from the rooftops every now and then to reveal the truth that lays beneath.  Most people soldier on ignorant of the hidden gems in others around them, concerned with their own shoveling and clearing for immediate personal gains rather than for the collective good.  I know I have sacrificed some personal peace these past weeks in favor of the project that has consumed me, but I’ve made sure to take time for the important things along the way – like watching that puck bounce over the goal line yesterday afternoon, or enjoying that piece of cake with the boy and his proud mom – but I also know that my efforts will live on behind me in the details I’ve left behind for others to enjoy.

Maybe silently secure isn’t such a bad thing.