Earlier this week, I heard something about a groundhog. I didn't really even pay attention to whether he saw his shadow or not. And you know what? I don't care.
Winter is wearing on me. As I am sure it's wearing on many people living here in Michigan, especially if you don't really have a winter sport or hobby. And as I bundled up my girls this morning, watched them struggle against their big coats, and use all of their concentration to fit their boots, which double the size of their feet, between the seats of my car. I thought, "I cannot wait for this winter to end."
But it occurred to me that we can function through these winters just fine. We live our lives, work, earn paychecks, spend time with family, spend time with friends; people die, people are born. I am painfully aware that life continues each morning when my alarm clock goes off at 6:40 a.m. This winter burden we bear is shared by people all over the world. Its nothing noble, valiant or even special. It is entirely ordinary.
There are others who know nothing about that struggle. For them, perhaps the struggle is suffocating heat, hurricanes, disease carrying mosquitoes, or deadly earthquakes. So, in contrast, I'd say we have it easy. Okay, maybe not easy. Florida is nice. Especially right now - early February - when it seems like we haven't seen the sun for ages. I have a brother in the Pacific Northwest, its nice there too. They have seasons, but there not nearly as extreme as the Michigan Seasons.
But, this process we endure, is what makes people from Michigan start facebook pages called,
"Bitch Please, I'm from Michigan". Something about this state that makes us hearty. Not just the weather, its the fact that hundreds of thousands made their living on assembly lines and that right now, the state is the economic armpit of the country. Michigan has come to symbolize struggle, but some wear that symbol proudly as if it means nothing - certainly not the weather - can beat us down.
Last night, Governor Jennifer Granholm, delivered her final State of the State address. And for the entire 7-plus years that she's been governor, people have been running away from Michigan. Sure, there are no jobs here. But the weather doesn't help. Friends of mine recently moved away to a warmer climate, and hopefully a better job. That same story is happening hundreds of times every day. I may leave someday too. But it won't be because of the weather.
I often ridicule people who say, "I'd live in Michigan, if it weren't for the winters." And maybe that's not fair. The cold, and the lack of sunlight can have a serious effect on some people. But, I believe we can embrace the winter and living through it makes the summers so much sweeter. I mean, we do have some pretty nice summers! But overall, why does it even matter? We live where our lives are. We live close to the people we love - close to the communities that support us. The weather is just scenery. Its always changing.
In just a few months, I'll be running, or riding my bike at the break of dawn on a summer day. I'll look at the enormous, bright sun rising over the mist of a corn field. And I'll say to myself, "Bitch, please. I'm from Michigan."
Winter is wearing on me. As I am sure it's wearing on many people living here in Michigan, especially if you don't really have a winter sport or hobby. And as I bundled up my girls this morning, watched them struggle against their big coats, and use all of their concentration to fit their boots, which double the size of their feet, between the seats of my car. I thought, "I cannot wait for this winter to end."
But it occurred to me that we can function through these winters just fine. We live our lives, work, earn paychecks, spend time with family, spend time with friends; people die, people are born. I am painfully aware that life continues each morning when my alarm clock goes off at 6:40 a.m. This winter burden we bear is shared by people all over the world. Its nothing noble, valiant or even special. It is entirely ordinary.
There are others who know nothing about that struggle. For them, perhaps the struggle is suffocating heat, hurricanes, disease carrying mosquitoes, or deadly earthquakes. So, in contrast, I'd say we have it easy. Okay, maybe not easy. Florida is nice. Especially right now - early February - when it seems like we haven't seen the sun for ages. I have a brother in the Pacific Northwest, its nice there too. They have seasons, but there not nearly as extreme as the Michigan Seasons.
But, this process we endure, is what makes people from Michigan start facebook pages called,
"Bitch Please, I'm from Michigan". Something about this state that makes us hearty. Not just the weather, its the fact that hundreds of thousands made their living on assembly lines and that right now, the state is the economic armpit of the country. Michigan has come to symbolize struggle, but some wear that symbol proudly as if it means nothing - certainly not the weather - can beat us down.
Last night, Governor Jennifer Granholm, delivered her final State of the State address. And for the entire 7-plus years that she's been governor, people have been running away from Michigan. Sure, there are no jobs here. But the weather doesn't help. Friends of mine recently moved away to a warmer climate, and hopefully a better job. That same story is happening hundreds of times every day. I may leave someday too. But it won't be because of the weather.
I often ridicule people who say, "I'd live in Michigan, if it weren't for the winters." And maybe that's not fair. The cold, and the lack of sunlight can have a serious effect on some people. But, I believe we can embrace the winter and living through it makes the summers so much sweeter. I mean, we do have some pretty nice summers! But overall, why does it even matter? We live where our lives are. We live close to the people we love - close to the communities that support us. The weather is just scenery. Its always changing.
In just a few months, I'll be running, or riding my bike at the break of dawn on a summer day. I'll look at the enormous, bright sun rising over the mist of a corn field. And I'll say to myself, "Bitch, please. I'm from Michigan."
