I was 8 years old and living in North Dakota with mom and dad. I loved North Dakota. I loved the big buttes and wide expanses. I liked the cold mornings and I loved the winter snows. They were deep sometimes and lasted for weeks. I would tunnel through the drifts to my friend’s houses. We were like little snow elves. I still remember one funny memory when I went out one morning and it smelled like raw bacon. That sounds gross but it was more perplexing and interesting to me.
But that is not this story. Here is the story.
One Chrstmas Eve mommy and I were waiting to decorate the tree. We had all the ornaments laid out and waiting for daddy to come home. It was a blizzard that night and blizzards in North Dakota were no joke. It could become a whiteout and make you snow-blind.
Whiteouts were very dangerous. I knew that you do NOT leave the house when there is a whiteout. All you could see is blowing flakes and could easily get lost out there and freeze to death. There were signs on the road warning travelers that if they had car trouble to stay in their car during a winter storm. Bundle up in blankets, tape up the windows and hunker down until the day was clear and you could find a phone.
There were things that far northerners did that the people in the middle west or south are not as familiar. Like changing your regular tires for snow tires or putting chains on them to keep your car from slipping since the snow could get so deep.
You always traveled with some food, water, blankets and small heaters in the back of your car as well as a big bag of kitty litter to help you out of a real big drift (and we did get some truly spectacular amounts of snow in the winter) and this all was because in the winter here a broken down car was not an inconvenience. A broken down car on a stormy night in December could mean death. This was way before cell phones. You would not have a way to call people unless you could walk to a payphone or house nearby.
That is why-here on this very, very snowy and blustery night- I was so concerned when daddy was not coming home. I looked out the window, small hands on the sill, watching for the lights of the car to turn into the driveway. Mommy was worried looking and was making calls to daddy’s friends but none of them were home and their wives did not know where they were either.
The snow kept falling. Mommy made us hot chocolate and we watched some TV and played some cards. I tried to put the scary thoughts out of my head of daddy out in the whiteness. But it got late and I was little and I got sleepy. So as worried as I was mommy tucked me into my bed and kissed my forehead and said “Daddy is okay. He is a lifelong northerner. He knows what to do and not to do. Maybe he is visiting a friend. Go to bed so Santa can come.”
It took me awhile to go to sleep. Just before I was drifting off I heard a door open and close and the stamping of snowy boots on the floor. I heard mommy raising her voice and daddy muttering something in the garbly voice he sometimes got after going out with his friends. There was some yelling and occassional “shhh she is asleep”.
I felt okay now. Daddy was home. He was safe. He was not out there in freezing blindness, walking over the snow drifts getting sleepy and deciding to take a nap on the side of the road (just for a little bit, so tired) and then never get up again.
Daddy was home. Santa was coming. I fell deep and dark down the rabbit hole of my dreams. Goodnight Christmas Eve. Goodnight.
