A Hard Day

I woke up this morning unsure about how the day would turn out. They had called for a blizzard. “They” were right. The snow was already falling and the wind was already blowing and my coworker had already texted me asking if I had heard anything about work when I opened my eyes. No, I replied, checking to make sure. Nothing. Business as usual. Not surprising, I suppose.

It was bad outside. Really bad. Extra bad. The bad that had half the city closed before the other half of the city even woke up. The kind of bad that nobody wants to be walking in or driving in, but we do, because we like our paycheque.

I took my time getting ready for work. I decided not to shovel, or ask my husband to do it. He and the boys are still vacationing and I certainly didn’t want to subject them to the roads if they didn’t need to be out. My plan was to walk to our nearest bus stop instead of driving to the park-and-ride. If I need to go anywhere during a blizzard, I’d rather be on a bus. Drivers are experienced, I’m not holding anyone’s life in my steering-wheel gripped hands, and the fewer cars on the road, the better. So, I pulled up my incredibly giant, incredibly ugly winter boots over my Friday jeans and stepped out into the snow – snow that went right over the top of those calf-high boots.

A few paces away from my house, I felt a snap, and my purse was gone. My brand spakin’ new, fabulous Christmas gift of a purse was in a pile of snow. My first-new-purse-since-2009’s strap had broken. And I wasn’t sure if I would make the bus. And my purse broke. But the bus. And the cold. And. …

I could have cried right then and there. Almost before the day had even started.

It was one of those days.

Just like the snow, this day didn’t stop. What started as a day where work wasn’t cancelled and a favourite purse broke turned into something else entirely when work finally was cancelled at noon. I found myself on the bus a couple of blocks away from my office, stranded. They were calling the busses off the road.

By the time I got home at the end of my day, I was cold and frozen and wet and tired. It had been a harrowing day. It was hard. So very hard. Even the soft parts were transformed into something hurtful, like powdery snow being whipped in the icy wind; like my soft and sweet little boy, sick and uncomfortable.

When things are metaphorically hard, we gravitate towards what is physically soft. Words and worlds coalesce and we seek comfort to counteract the callous.

Bunny can be held in the palm of my hand, though once, I’m sure, he was bigger compared to me. His fur is missing in patches because of so much rubbing and his tag was sucked off many years ago. Bunny moved out of my bed when my man moved into it, but he is never far for those just in cases; Just in case my King-size bed feels a little too big one night; Just in case my husband is away; Just in case my day is extra hard.

Cameron only gravitated towards a stuffie when he was two years old. Even still, he doesn’t need one like I did. And he doesn’t need one like Gavin does.

Oh, Gavin. Sweet, soft, squishable, loveable Gavin needs sweet, soft, squishable, loveable things in his life. He latched on to Snuggle Puppy’s ears only a few months into his life and he has barely let go (poor Snuggle Puppy. Poor sopping, stinky, much loved, Snuggle Puppy). And as each new “baby” comes into his world, he loves it as only a little toddler person can love – with strength and squeezes and slobber. And on days like today, when the world is hard, not because he had to go to work or walk through a blizzard or was stranded on a bus, but because his stomach hurts and that’s hard too – he reaches for me and he reaches for a “baby” and suddenly the hardness is a little softer. Together the three of us sink and shift back into this world that is kind of soft and kind of hard. Corners lose some of their sharpness. We lean into each other and we breathe the soft air.

Alison from Writing Wishing and Greta from G*Funk*ified are hosting a year long photography project called “Through the Lens Thursday” where they are encouraging everyone to pick up their big girl cameras and start practicing those photography skills. While I’m not willing to commit to any full-year photography project myself, I miss my camera and the photos it takes very much, and am looking forward to having a reason to pull it out. This week’s theme is “Soft”.