This morning, I cried.
Now, feeling spent, I'm sorting through the emotional fall-out to focus on the source of my mini breakdown.
It centers around my amazing husband.
Allow me to set the scene. After yesterday's extreme snowfall, we have 16"+ of snow on the ground. Said snow and every outside surface is coated with ice because it has been raining since yesterday afternoon. Trees are down on roads, the power flickers menacingly, cars are in ditches, SeaTac airport is closed. Are you getting the picture? It's a treacherous day in the Pacific Northwest.
Look closely & you will see the sheen of ice on snow coating everything, even vertical walls.Glynn works as a contractor salesman at a lumber yard two blocks from our home. Yes, he could walk to work but he would be walking alongside a highway with no shoulder. Thankful for that excuse, he drives. When Glynn set out for work this morning, a semi was stuck sideways 0n our road, blocking his ability to drive to work. The driver apologized for the inconvenience and is likely still waiting for assistance from a tow truck.
Although Glynn is on the 'bottom rung of the food chain' (his words) at the store, because of his integrity, he occasionally has the responsibility of opening the store when his boss is delayed. This was one of those mornings.
On a day like this why not close the store, one might wonder? (It likely will close early.) However, deliveries (trucks with loads of lumber) arrive by 7 a.m., the yard guys show up, etc.
Acknowledging this responsibility, Glynn decides to walk to work. He dons a bright orange safety vest, grabs a flashlight and sets out into the dangerous terrain.
I swallow my panic at this lunacy and try to reason with him. "Your job is not worth you life", I plead. "You're not safe out there."
This matter-of-fact sense of responsibility paired with an intense desire to succeed, topped with a huge coating of integrity is what keeps this man on his Bobcat, plowing the aisle ways of our mini storage facility well into the darkened hours of the night. This 'drive' has been the source of pain and frustration many times in our relationship. Yet I know full well that it is
and continues to be the engine that molds the foundation of our reality. Where I would have thrown my hands up in despair during difficult times, Glynn, always the optimist, did his best to calm my fears and continued trudging on, relentless and focused.
The dedicated plow-er.
After sifting through my rant, I conclude: Life is risky. Hard work is mandatory. Integrity is always good. Perseverance gets results. Being understanding and supportive helps. And, occasionally, one must chain one's husband to the bed frame to ensure his safety.
Fear was the focus of my rant. I replaced it with thankfulness for such an amazing, albeit sometimes crazy, husband and sent a blessing into the ether to my man.
**To keep you from suspense, Glynn returned home a second time. It was simply too slippery to walk. The semi, with the assistance of another large truck, was slowly inching it's way out of the right of way and Glynn was able to successfully drive to work.
A huge mound of plowed snow graces my front yard. 
Yes. The facility is closed today.
