Sunday, April 30, 2017

Life after a breakup.

Photo by Pazely Mans
A lot has been happening since I last wrote...
Spring, for one.
But it's a different spring than I'm used to. On Facebook, one friend (who lives in a different part of the United States, not so close to Russia as I am) has posted pictures of their irises blooming. Another friend has had sunny yellow adventures (of the flowering kind) in Cali. I see macro shots of poppies, flowering dogwood trees, fields of daffodils. It doesn't stop. And I kinda want it to. Why? 
Because I'm jealous.

As exciting as it is to see the new world around me begin to transform before my eyes, nothing could have prepared me for breakup. (What sort of evil is this?!) According to an article entitled "Speak Alaskan" on the website alaska.org, "Breakup signals springtime in Alaska. It's the time of year when the frozen rivers break apart and flow again." (That doesn't sound so bad.) They go on to say: "In town, the snow melts, leaving enormous puddles, dirty cars, and generally quite a mess. It's not a great time of year to travel in the backcountry because the snowpack is gone but the ground hasn't dried out yet." 
They failed to mention the snow melting into the shape of giant frozen craters EVERYWHERE in the landscape, & that when you try to take your kids to school you may or may not be able to get out of your driveway, & if you do, you will most definitely bottom-out while driving through said craters, & then you will get STUCK in the craters right at the edge of the school parking lot, & all the other parents taking their kids to school will drive around you because you're kind of in the way, & your kids will be SO EMBARRASSED that they "could just die!", & you can't help but laugh to keep from crying, & you're just praying that somehow the rocking motion you're making inside your vehicle will do the trick to get you UNSTUCK because you're wearing pajamas, & you really don't want to get out of the car in all this ice-snow-chaos because the pajamas you're wearing are not your cute pajamas.
Yeah, they left out that part.

In my own definition, here is what breakup is: breakup: a noun & a verb & an adjective & probably other stuff too: //dirty snow that starts to melt. No, wait! It's gonna freeze a little now. Yeah, it's gonna freeze & melt & freeze & melt & then turn to muddy-mud-puddles-mixed-with-mud & then there will still be large chunks of ice in the road that'll mess you up & then you're like, "I think I broke my car, I heard a lot of scraping."//   //And the color brown.//   //And this sound: "bleeakjsjkf".//

THIS IS BREAKUP.
Photo by Pazely Mans

THIS IS BREAKUP.
Photo by Pazely Mans


THIS IS BREAKUP. OR MAYBE THAT'S POOP.
Photo by Pazely Mans


THIS IS BREAKUP.
Photo by Pazely Mans

Breakup is also where you find all those things you thought you lost all winter. As the snow melts in your yard, it carries your items ever-so-carefully to rest upon the soggy earth for you to find. That, & all the trash from your neighbors. (Man! Debris for daysssss!)


This kind of breakup is not unlike the dissolution of a relationship between two people: There is a giant hole where there once wasn't one. (Everywhere, holes.) It is a painful scenario to be involved in. (Heartache on many levels.) There is no color left in your world. (Depression hits.) It is drab & ugly. (Depression 2.0 hits.) The disintegration is imminent. (You can't stop it.) You can't believe how this could be happening to you. (Denial takes you to its secret dark place.)
You think you're fine one minute, & then you hit rock bottom. (I literally bottomed-out, people.) 
What if you get stuck in this situation again? (You avoid going out. You even consider homeschooling your children through breakup JUST so you don't have to drive in that mess.)

Technically, as I write this, the worst of the breakup is over. For the most part. I think? I don't know. I've never done this before! I'm guessing. But I have since regained my confidence & have re-entered the outside world with a renewed tenacity. I'm all over here with my new mud boots flippin' attitude like, "What? What now?! Come at me, breakup!" 
(I'm so giddy over the boots! I've never lived anywhere that necessitated wearing them, yet I have ALWAYS wanted a pair. Dreams really do come true. Also, I've realized that if I don't wear my big girl boots I'll ruin my cute shoes.)

The breakup means the snow is vanishing, which means the earth can breathe & flourish into a spring-like wonderland. And all the spiders hibernating their egg sacs in the snow can now be born & come live in our house. (SERIOUSLY! I'm so grossed out by all the spiders.) 

I'm anxious for color & life of the blooming variety. That part is all just going a bit more slowly than I'd like. I've been out searching for spring. And like I said before, it just looks different than I'm used to. 
It is...longer days of sunshine, which is an odd concept to get used to. But I've been soaking up as much sun as possible on the days when the light has been at its best. And a gorgeous daylight it can be. It holds the power to change moods. (We hung our blackout curtains just in time. Tonight, for instance, the sun sets at 10:06 PM. And we're still gaining more light every day! Isn't that cray-cray & fascinating?!)
 It is...the birds! I've been listening to them chittering & gossiping about all the things they have to catch up on since they last parted ways seasons ago.
It is...the ants redecorating their homes. 
It is...our wild bunny friend continuing to make his visits. 
It is...the squirrels playing chasing games on my roof. 

Photo by Pazely Mans
And I have spied green things— I've just had to squat on my hands & knees to find them, & then attach a macro lens to my camera to see them. And most of them are probably weeds.

A friend recently shared with me how she was listening to a podcast once about early childhood education. The teacher talking was from the midwest & had moved to rural Alaska to teach. She was so excited for the "spring" weather in Alaska that she asked the kiddos in her class to paint what reminded them of spring. They all painted brown. She was horrified—until she experienced the breakup.
I get it. I totally get it.
It's a messy cycle, this breakup business. 
But I have survived. 
I am a survivor.

2 comments:

  1. I can almost FEEL your descriptions are so well written. Thanks for a little peek at Alaska life. ❤️

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  2. Wow this is fascinating stuff. Your writing is excellent. I feel as though I am right there too.

    ReplyDelete