Christmas 2009
There are some very proud moments for a father. The birth of your child is one. Last Friday I enjoyed another. My oldest, my baby girl graduated from Virginia Tech. I know all you Cavaliers out there are wondering why I would be proud of that, but she did it in three and half years and I got to watch a REAL football team.
Exactly one week before Christmas with a college career loaded in the back of the pickup, we traveled to the commencement exercise and a celebratory lunch. Then in true Clampett fashion, we headed out for the 3-hour drive back home. Perhaps there is some rule in grammar about mixing old television sitcom metaphors, but with a loaded truck, and my 88-year-old mother in law we felt like T.V.’s Beverly Hillbillies; and that 3-hour tour? Well, let’s just say the weather started getting rough. As I herded the cats, the snow began to fall.
My wife and mother in law started out about 45 minutes before my son and I. My daughter, the graduate decided that the idea of trying to head home in the snow was ludicrous and stayed with a friend. By the time we were on the road in earnest we were solidly in the blizzard of 2009. The traffic was bumper to bumper, and the truck preferred sideways to forward. Five hours and less than 2 miles later Evan and I joined hundreds of others and abandoned the truck on the side of the road. My wife was luckier and actually made it to a hotel 30 miles down the road and comfortably hunkered down. Evan and I found the last hotel room in Blacksburg. We checked into the Comfort Inn and were glad to pay their “snow rate” (have to be consistent in my support of the free market). We realized that we were starving. Across the parking lot stood a Mexican Restaurant with a sign blinking OP_N in red and green. We slogged through the snow well over a foot deep now. We sat down, shook off the chill, and our friendly though less than fluent waitress took a needed cocktail order. As I looked around waiting for my liquid salvation I started to laugh. I kept seeing the image of Darren McGavin and the family from, “A Christmas Story”, their dinner ruined, sitting in the Chinese Restaurant. We were the only customers and I am sure they wanted to close, but the service was friendly and fast, and as hungry as we were, I am sure Le Cirque would not have tasted better. We had a great meal and headed back to the hotel with farewell Merry Christmases from our new friends.
The next morning in the lobby I drank my coffee with my head buried in the newspaper as I usually do and tried to ignore the other refugees of disaster. That was good for about 20 minutes. Somehow a conversation started. About half of us were parents or relatives of graduates, the rest were truck drivers and holiday motorists that had become stranded on I-81. One guy had spent the night in his car, apparently, he had tried to check in right after I took the last room. He was now hanging out, waiting for a room to become available. Lots of luck, I thought. Nobody is going anywhere today. Everyone had a story to tell. A truck driver who had come down from Scranton thought things were going well until his truck jack-knifed. A woman whose son had graduated and was trying to figure out how to try to get the boy’s apartment packed up and get home to the northeast with at least another foot of snow on its way. We were all strangers marooned on this snowy winter island and yet we were sharing this common bond, and by mid-morning, it felt like we were friends. The guy who slept in his car trudged out to get a charger for me to revive my blackberry. There were stories and laughs, cars being unburied, and an endless urn of coffee shared. I guess it’s true that we are at our best in crisis, that we come together in trying situations. We shared our stories, and our plight and it all seemed better somehow.
Another night and morning passed, and the word spread that 81 had opened again. My new best friend from AAA had finally found a tow truck for us and we were soon on our way. Funny, not only had I gotten to know some folks that I would have ordinarily not even made eye contact with, but I had spent time getting to know my son better. Two days in a hotel room with a high school senior could have made freezing to death seem like a viable option. I have to say, I couldn’t have picked anyone better to have been stranded with. I am lucky to be the father of a kid who is becoming quite a man. I realized that he will be leaving home soon, and how blessed I was to have gotten this time with him.
Three days later (and four days before Christmas) we arrived home to a house that was undecorated, the tree in a bucket in the garage and presents yet to be purchased. I took a deep breath. Things could have been worse, we were all safe and we decided that what got done, would get done and the rest?, well, Christmas would probably come anyway. Our expectations were reset. It is easy to worry so much about insignificant details or insist on observing all the rituals that we find impossible to let go of, that we miss the actual experience of Christmas. Too often I have wrapped my mind around the what if, and not the what is. Adversity helped us find a different place altogether. Our priorities changed, and the little things remained just that. I learned that by letting go of the trivial, I discovered the things that really made me happy and I was bothered much less by the rest. The little mishaps had become a cause for laughter and not a flashpoint for frustration.
What a great Christmas present. Our lives are full of both misfortune and blessings, and happiness is a function of what we choose to focus on. So as this Christmas draws near and the New Year approaches, my resolve is to enjoy my blessings more and to look for the positive that can be inside each misfortune. My hope is that each of you find the peace and joy that resides within.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!