Snowy Day

Lots of thoughts race through my head today.  It was a good day ...a memory day ...a feeling close to Phoebe day.  I didn't feel close to her in the sense that I felt her near, but in the sense that I remembered her and the things she would have liked about the day ...and of course what she would not have liked about the day.  We had a blizzard.  To be honest, it wasn't nearly as threatening as I had anticipated.  Some of the kids were insulted at the small inches that accumulated.  But we live on the coast, we'll usually have less.  Still, school was canceled and everyone was home.  Most of us know "cabin fever" crankiness that sets in after too much time in the house.  We all had it before we even woke up ...not good.  The only answer ...outside!  So, for me, it was largely an outside day.  Shoveling than gathering wood for a fire.  Those are two of the many things Phoebe and I did together on snowy days.  For the past two winters I was often home alone during snowstorms. My son away and my husband usually at work ...often held over because of the storm, Phoebe helped me run the show.  She always knew far more than me about shoveling, moving cars.  I remember one morning she stood at the window, shook her head, laughed and said "Mom, why did you park the car like that ...sometimes, I really worry about you."  I looked out, assuming she was just playing with me ...but sure enough ...our big van was perpendicular to the driveway, on our front lawn.  I had put the emergency brake on and turned the tires just in case it did this, so that it wouldn't go into the street.  Being the teenage girl she was, she assumed I had purposely done this, thinking it a good idea.  It had snowed enough after it slid to cover the proof of my innocence.  I remember how we had laughed, then gone outside to shovel ....and move the car. 
It was fun to remember her time in the snow ...always well bundled, ready to work.
Phoebe was an outdoor girl, so walking through the woods, gathering wood brought soothing thoughts of her time there.  This past summer she had spent time in the White Mountains.  There is a picture of her standing on a cliff, looking toward the great expanse ...more mountains far off in the distance.  It is a view of her from the back, relaxed, taking it in, wool hat, jacket ...in July.  I wonder what she was thinking as she stood there.  Another picture from that time is a similar view ...just of her hand, palm up, the mountain range off in the distance, the valley below.  What did her eyes see?  What did she think, looking out there?  I had picked her up, she was happy, relaxed ...thinking of going back towards the end of the summer.  She would have worked hard with me today.  But she wasn't here for that, will never be again.  Somehow, just for today, it didn't stab me.  Instead it felt like I was doing something she would have loved ...and that was enough.
I don't usually spend that much time outside ...working.  It felt good, pushed me, stretched me in a physical way.  I could see what I had done, measure my day by snow piles, wood piles.  There is that expression, "work smart, not hard."  I've always thought of that in a positive way, but I wonder ...without the physical work of day, without the physical effort to survive, have we lost something?  Phoebe had visited a farm this summer, in a valley between mountains.  It was a small house, a barn, some sheep, a cow, gardens ...solar power.  This small family lives "off the grid."  Self sustaining, Phoebe was intrigued by how they live ...how well they live.  They worked hard to survive, but they were happy.  She liked that, the contrast between our comforts we claim necessary and the real work of making life sustainable.  How I wish we had talked more about that.  I thought we had ...talked about so many different ways to make a life ...live well.  Our kids are so pressured to go through the formula ...a formula that works well for a few, but stresses many.  Graduate high school, then right to college, take out loans, get a job, pay off loans ...move to a cul de sac.  There's lots of pressure in that.  I have a few kids that would work really well for, but others, Phoebe among them ...don't see the long term value of that template for life.   Life just isn't formulaic.  That's been made quite clear in this home.
The fresh air, the snow, the work ...had nourished me, given me some time alone with Phoebe ...in my own way.  I am often there in my head and heart, but amidst the activity of everyone.  This was nice to just be thinking of her, the things she loved, doing them ...just remembering.  I had asked God this morning to help me make this day the best it could be.  I knew I was cranky, on edge ...so He whisked me outside ...answered my plea.  By the time I came back in, there was plenty to do.  Each of my kids had me one on one for a bit.  I've been trying to do that all along, but its been hard.  My heart yearns to find Phoebe.  Around me are the living ...and they need me, want me.  I think having done what I did, spending that time outside with her freed me, let me go ...so that I could be with them, heart and soul, taking each one in, the wonder of them.  I cooked, painted, played, sang, snuggled, laughed ...a full cup, I would say.   New memories to be made, a life to live.  When I see her ... and I know I will one day, I want lots to tell her.  I want her to know we are okay.  It's a gift, this day.  I'll remember it when tougher days come, the ones that don't let me see beyond the loss, the missing,  the pain.  It is the pattern of life, the sowing, the growing, the harvest, lying fallow.  I won't fight it, it will just be.  It will be well ...even in sorrow, sadness, suffering ...life will be well.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.