“It was a typical, mid-winter night, similar to many I’d known. And like every high elevation in Vermont, the landscape was a seascape of drifted snow, carved & frozen anew by erratic, horizontal winds. I’d forgotten something in the car, and leaving the children at their play indoors, I headed out to retrieve it. I’m sure i had no hat; just to make the relatively short journey, it seemed too much bother. At that time, there were no outdoor lights, and the hilltop view also, held no illumination. Not tonight. I felt alone. We lived close to a mile from the nearest power pole, so the fewer electrical things we ran, the better. I liked it that way, for the most part. But, on nights like this, it gave me pause. Our slim tether to modern conveniences grew more serious, as the days grew shorter.And as a single mom, none of this was lost on me. I was foolish, perhaps, but no fool. Being utterly responsible, a fact of what my life was turning into by design, brought fear, along with freedom. Stepping out into the darkness and into blizzard conditions, I steeled myself, bracing each molecule of my warm body against the odds. There was no room for error: I had to return to the house, without expiring due to some lapse in health or freak accident, for the sake of my children. I could not be lost, in the wild, for I was all they had, in this moment. It was no longer just about me. Moving across the blackened door-yard in search of my car, I glanced back at the glowing windows, of the home I had created. Ice particles were gathering around my neck, where my coat didn’t quite do its job. Should I perish, it would be too far for them to walk, to the nearest house, as they were still quite small, & not reliably able to even use a phone. The inescapable truth of our fragile survival, was sending a message to me, met by immediate denial. No, no, I insisted. This is not humane, not any part of this “what could happen”; it can’t be real! My hair blew straight upwards, I’m sure, biting cold raking my face, as I fumbled to open the car door, to retrieve the thing. Probably groceries, or a school homework assignment. I’d moved here to both be left alone, and be near another family. But the family had moved away, and I was left to face the unpredictable future. It was not really how I’d planned anything, but that’s how it goes. What I remember most is my inability to integrate my understandings of how much I loved my family, and the reality of how vulnerable we were. Anyway, it all comes back to me, at times, when the temperatures or wind chills are sub-zero. I observe my grown children, who are now adults with families or solid partners of their own, and register the fact, that we all survived. It’s a tenuous grace. There are no guarantees in this regard. I still need to gauge each day, by thermometer, and do so in the early, dawn hours. I have sliding barn doors now, protecting my wood shed, from undue onslaughts of blowing snow. I can close the doors at night, and feel I’m somewhat protected. From what, I couldn’t tell you.”
