Ice: Storm and Cubes

Ice is dangerous.  It can down power lines.  It can crack hearts.  It can leave people stranded without warmth in cold temperatures.  It can break tree limbs that break fences and cars and roofs.  Growing up in the Midwest, snowstorms were normal; ice storms were to be feared – even more so down south.

As I sit here trees in our neighborhood are melting off the ice storm that is rumored to have ruined at least a third of Augusta’s tree population.  With the exception of a damaged fence and a few branches, our house and yard have remained unscathed.  And, thanks to living in a subdivision across from the substation and in which the power lines are all underground, we have been warm and happy and entertained the past two days.  And, as one guy at the grocery store said today, “Y’all, next Friday we won’t even remember this – it’s gonna be 78 – we’ll all be in flip-flops.”  He’s right.  We will have few long-lasting effects other than being even better prepared next time. 

However, the day before the ice rolled through here, another kind of storm hit -- small, personalized storm. It was the kind of storm that reminds you just how cruel and petty some people can be.  It was the kind of mini-storm that left no broken fences or car wrecks. It was subtle.  There were no icicles or damaged plants after this storm came by.  The fallout from this storm, however, will be longer lasting.

Earlier this week, a divorced dad that insisted his son spend a certain afternoon “with him” for the dad’s birthday.  The son initially didn’t want to go, but agreed because of the festivities and the birthday.  He was cajoled into going because it was the right thing to do – you know, Dad’s birthday and all.  Once the evening came, the son saw his dad for about ten minutes, and then the dad left the son with grandmother, telling the son he was going to a birthday celebration with his wife and kids.  The son was not invited. Son returned home defeated, angry, and hungry.  He had not had any supper because he thought he was going to the birthday dinner.  Despite his initial resistance to the event, he had gotten excited to see this part of his family. He felt included and happy.  But, his dad stopped by grandmother’s house, said a quick hi, and took off, leaving him behind; it was a small, personal ice storm that will have unfortunate lasting effects. 

We all have the capability to create an personal ice storm for someone else.  I vividly remember about six years ago when I was totally fed up with a student's excuses.  She came in to talk to me, and I just couldn't be kind.  I wasn't understanding.  I didn't say it out loud, but she knew that I was mad.  I froze her out.  After a class or two, I realized that not only had I given her the cold shoulder, but I could actually feel the lingering coldness of our encounter.  Before the end of the day, I had found her, apologized, listened to her, and been forgiven.  It was a slippery patch for sure, and I can tell you I've had more than one.  Haven't you?

There is a kind of ice that can grow in people’s lives.  It is a callousness that some people seem to be born with.  Maybe it is covetousness – saying “I’m so jealous” more often than “I’m so happy for you.”  It might be a desire to hoard instead of being generous. It is a self-centeredness that some cultivate as a defense against the world.  Perhaps it’s being so self-involved you omit someone from your birthday dinner. It might show up as hostility towards an innocuous but slightly annoying neighbor. It is an anger that is the result of unfortunate circumstances.  This ice has many manifestations.  We all have moments of ice in our lives, but as our communities do after winter storms, we really should try to learn from them.  From time to time we should take inventory and make sure we aren’t turning too cold when it comes to the things that really matter.

If we can learn anything from the big ice storm, it is that we need to recognize the bits of ice and slippery patches in every day life.  Everyone has a few cubes lurking around – so, instead of stock piling and letting such coldness overtake our interactions or lives, how about if we gather them all up and make drinks, get together, relax, and enjoy each other's company?

Frozen margaritas, anyone?