Wednesday, November 11, 2009

It's Cold Outside.



It is 6am. Freezing. And dark too.

It brings back memories. Memories of 6am seminary classes in high-school. (Seminary is an early morning scripture study class for LDS high-school students every day BEFORE school. It's also where we go to drink our early morning holy juice, milked from the golden udders of the magic cow hidden in our temples, drunk in preparation to take over the world through specific covert military training involving spoons.)*

*Hint, that last part was a joke (albeit a lame one). An attempt to add to the stereotypical weirdness already assigned to our religion, one that includes attending scripture classes in the wee hours of the morning. Trust me, we can make better fun of ourselves than anyone else. Try me. Come on, try me.


My brother drove a 1975 black Toyota Landcruiser. It had the capability to wake an entire neighborhood as we drove by....VROOOOM VROOOOOM CLACK JUMP...RRRRR...RRRRR.....VROOOOM....SPOOF, CLICKITY CLICKITY CLICKITY....VROOOOOOM.... Luckily for the neighbors, we didn't have any neighborhood, as we lived a few miles outside of town (although at that moment I desperately wished we did. It would have given some satisfaction to at least awake the rest of the world at 5:30am in holy indignation to share in the misery of this loud engine and car exhaust. Wake up! Wake up, world! Tiiiiime to study your scriptures! I'll be danged if you get to enjoy your sleep if I can't enjoy mine! VROOOM....CLICKITY...VRRROOOM...Wake up! booooo haaaaa haaaaa!). We'd trek the 6-10 miles of dirt road in the cruiser to get to seminary. It was louder than you can imagine, bumping down the road in the freezing cold of morning. It was always dark. The heater only worked so well and came up from the bottom of the dashboard, blasting strongly enough to burn your feet while the rest of your body still froze.

It was during that drive that I would sit, peering out my 12 x 14 inch window (assuming the doors were attached...not always the case) into other people's homes once our car reached the pavement and we entered civilization.
I would notice lights just beginning to flicker on, and imagine the warmth of pajamas in the cozy splendor of their home, a blasting furnace penetrating a morning filled with leisurely breakfasts and hot cocoa. After my soul had experienced enough yearning, I would turn my head forward towards the blackness of the street, and drive on in the cold (Sometimes with a backdrop of Rage Against the Machine blasting. Not my doing. I had no say in choices of music, and my brother was obviously going through a bit of a "phase". Although to his credit and redemption, he now only listens to incredibly weak and poetic Nora Jones ballads and frequently spouts deeply philosophical conundrums in British accents. I swear. Reformed rager.)
It was during these moments, I repeatedly SWORE to myself:

I WILL NEVER AGAIN, EVER EVER EVER, CHOOSE A LIFE THAT INVOLVES LEAVING MY HOME IN THE DARK,
COLD HOURS OF MORNING.


It felt like being swallowed by the jaws of Satan himself to have to leave my home at such an hour. And this promise to myself kept me going. After four years, I graduated seminary.

And this morning, as Tyler trudged out into the cold to provide for us, I realized: I'm living my dream! My promise! (Yet another one that you -Tyler- have fulfilled). I have putzed around my home, picking up odds and ends in the cozy joy of my sweats. It is warm, and safe, and I don't have to walk out into a brutal world at 6am any more (so far).

But you do. And you do it for me, and our beautiful girls.

So Tyler, love, thank you for allowing me to fulfill my dream. And thank you for being a morning person. I'll be thinking of you (somewhat lustfully - you always look so smashing and fresh on your way out the door) as I drink my cocoa.










2 comments:

jenniferoharra said...

Oh so sweet!!

Joan said...

I am familiar with the noise that vehicle can produce. You feel like your driving in an armed military tank! haha. Pretty rad car, nonetheless.
Your early morning trek to seminary brought back memories. I remember setting my alarm ten minutes earlier than usual so that when I got out of the shower I could wrap my towel around me AND my robe and crawl back into bed to listen to music for a bit before I got ready.
I too am grateful for a good husband who takes his career seriously...and the part that makes me want to cry (tears of gratitude) is that he does it all for the love of me and our babies.