The last couple of days have been tough for quite a few people, thanks to the most brutal blizzard we’ve seen in twenty years. Just glance at a photo of the hundreds of cars stranded on Chicago’s Lake Shore Drive and you can actually feel the pain and bitter frustration which this storm caused for its unluckiest victims.
But for some of us, this blizzard was – dare I say this out loud? – fun. I don’t mean the part where we were clearing our driveway…. even with a snowblower, that was not fun…. but having a day off in a warm, safe house was actually a lovely, rare blessing.
What made it especially lovely was that while we were essentially marooned and by ourselves, we were somehow fully connected to the rest of the world, including other friends and family enduring the same blizzard as we were. . . and to be alone and yet together was a sweet feeling indeed. It was especially nice to be on Facebook, through which we heard certain fun stories but otherwise were simply reminded that Mother Nature had not singled us out- but had lashed out at millions of midwesterners. Facebook made it crystal clear that we were all in this together, even though physically we could not have been more isolated from one another- at least during the blizzard and in its immediate aftermath. And as various updates came in from friends around Racine and Kenosha, you had this sense that some people were being plowed out quite quickly while others were waiting and waiting and waiting for their first sighting of a snowplow on their street. . . which heightened one’s sense that for however frustrating your own situation might be, someone else’s was still worse. And maybe it’s got something to do with the Facebook format, but it sure seemed like a lot of people were digging deep into their souls for patience, graciousness, and a surprising amount of good cheer in the face of adversity. I think in a scenario where everyone felt more isolated. it would have been easier to be ground down in frustration. (Most of the folks stranded in cars had no way to truly commiserate with others in the same predicament, short of exiting their vehicle and climbing into someone else’s.) And it wasn’t just in words that we felt this odd sense of alliance. . . but also in the photos which were shared of one another’s arctic inundation. *
The photo above is not from the blizzard. . . but rather a scene from the disastrous earthquake which struck New Zealand back in the fall. . . an earthquake whose epicenter was the small town where my sister Randi and her family were living at the time. An earthquake is the kind of disaster which almost instantly severs everyone’s connection with the rest of the world. No phone. No internet. No nothing. It’s hard to imagine that, if you’ve never been through it. But at least they had each other- and the night after the quake, Aidan and Anna and Kaj chose to sleep together -and I don’t blame them. Because in any kind of trial, what we need almost more than anything is a sense of together- ness. . . that we are in this together. A sense that we are not alone. That photo of the young Spencer-Bergs reminds me that for as fun as it was to be in instantaneous contact with Facebook friends, the most important togetherness was between Kathy and me. . . and Bobbi and Ellie, too, as we huddled together Tuesday night with the wind howling outside and rattling our house like we had never heard before. I know that there were people that night who were by themselves, and I especially thought of two different recently widowed friends and ached for them. And in aching for them, I was doubly grateful to not be alone on such a night.
Which brings to mind a sweet story from the huge blizzard which blanketed Philadelphia a few weeks back. My brother Steve posted a story on Facebook of how much he dreaded the prospect of digging out his car – but how delighted he was when there was a knock on the door and the two neighbor boys were there to ask if they could help him shovel out the car. They refused Steve’s offer of payment, and when he insisted they replied that they would take whatever he paid them and donate it to UNICEF. Is it just my imagination or are acts of kindness especially heart- warming when they’re shared in the wintertime?
* My favorite facebook post during the storm actually came from a high school classmate of mine- Mark Fudge- who posted these words at some point yesterday: I know the environmentalists are right, but it really hurts their case when I’m shoveling two feet of global warming of of my driveway. Thanks for the laugh, Mark.