Snowy Memories and Untold Stories

    The snow is coating the ground softly, hard-packed so footprints won't spoil the beauty of it. I'm sitting here alone in my dorm in the fluorescent light above my desk typing this out, with the warm glow of my Christmas tree shining on the other side of the room. I'm completely out of groceries again, and I need to shave. I'm wearing the plaid pajama pants we got at Wal-Mart the day after the fire and the orange OSU hoodie I was wearing that day, now looking rather worn-out and ratty from long use. You can't do homework all that well at night, and there's only so much Netflixing possible over one weekend. And then when you're snowed in(for the most part) on top of all that and haven't really had much human interaction over the past couple days...there's just your thoughts to go chasing each other around and around through your head.

     While I was taking a shower I just got to thinking about the past ten years or so, what all's happened; "Down By the Creek Bank", "The American Ideal" and all those other musicals and stuff with the Okmulgee homeschool group; playing two-touch football with little siblings or basketball games before drama each week. The archery shoots and field trips and birthday parties. Snide comments hissed to each other and improv comedy occurring completely naturally out of thin air. Kind of made me think of Trace Adkins' "You're Gonna Miss This"  Not sure exactly why, but it did. 

     I managed to fit some of those lyrics into a article on the closing of the high school football stadium about five years ago, it was by far my favorite newspaper story I've written. Got to thinking of those times standing on the sidelines and sitting/standing in the bleachers and crammed into press boxes while covering games. And the sacrifices of time and gas Mom and Dad took to get me to and from those games.  Really amazing when you stop and think about it. 

     Dealing with moving from Morris to Beggs, or Tahlequah back to Beggs, or when Meowie's first kittens were born, or Sunny's first puppies. The failed experiment of Dixie the horse. Jumping into the caprine world after getting Stormy at a garage sale. Taking care of Mimi as she got sicker, or Dado as he started to fade. Cleaning out the little house on the farm in Westville, taking care of Nano as best we can. Amy's birth; rebuilding after the fire. Remodeling the family room; destroying the bar, ripping up the awful striped carpet and the slow, methodical process of stripping the carpet-padding from the concrete. 

      A guy in my speech class just gave a presentation over the history of Sony's PlayStation, which made me think of all the hours racing the Soukups on various video games, or the horseshoe tournament we held at our house when their parents went on vacation, pickup baseball and Refrigerator Tag in their backyard, getting our feet taken out repeatedly by running dogs wanting to join in on the fun. 

      Holding church in first a warehouse and then a library while remodeling, two months after the church was finally ready again the house burned. In some ways still haven't gotten used to some things architecturally yet. Game nights with the youth group, movie-worldview-discussion sessions, skating trips. Sometimes really miss leading worship with Josh or Laura's piano-playing. Things like shopping trips with Sam and Dylan, getting lost that first time at camp with Josh, or when we got lost again in Louisville during T4G. The wild Facecbook-based hijinks through high school with Jon, Jed, Sam and Amanda, which led to parodies like this. 

      Giving my graduation speech with my tassel flopping constantly into my face, or going on Youth Tour.

      The quotes that stick, for some unsure reason, in your mind and jump out at unexpected times, such as Grandma Joy's final words to me: "I'm very proud of you." Why does that mean so much, when I didn't even really know her that well?  

     Some of this is probably from watching two seasons' worth of The Wonder Years over the last three weeks, combined with re-reading The Princess Bride and thinking over The Big Green, Wishbone, Charlotte's Web and other tales, but it makes me wonder what exactly my letter to me would be like, and how exactly I'll tell these and other stories of my growing-up whenever my kids or nieces or nephews or whoever ask for trips down my highway of memories. (Next blog post project: story songs in general. When will I have time to wrestle that into something of the right shape, I have no idea.) 

      

      Sometimes I'm still kind of looking for what exactly my place in this world. is, anyway. College can kind of be a confusing time. You don't exactly belong firmly anywhere, kind of jumping on a trampoline and coming down occasionally in several target areas. College is our job, an insulated workplace/alien world/many other things. We adopt a local church close to campus, but it's not really the same. And we can't go back and visit our home church that often, and when we do, we don't exactly fit in as neatly as we once did. Home is good to stop in and visit when you can, good to check in with family and get caught up on the latest news. And there's some way we can be serving the Lord, surely; just....well, what is it? 

      this Steven Curtis Chapman song kind of fits my mood, I guess. And this one, too. And this one. (I've always really loved his "Declaration" CD, okay?) This, too... Sorry for all the song links, but sometimes it's easier to re-post what somebody else has written before you than try to think of a fresh angle to say exactly what you mean. 

     My advertising class in the morning was canceled because the instructor is sick, so Tuesday will probably be much like Monday, and Sunday, and Saturday have been. Except with a lot of homework to try to get done.