Something Timeless in Northfield

This morning I woke up in my childhood home in Northfield.  It's so lovely to have a home, a place set apart from the great wide world, where many things are as they were.  Before.  Things in place, in an ever moving world.  Before I moved and ventured into something new on my own.  Before college.  Before high school.  Before 1995.  There are many ways to categorize time and its connection to home when you've stayed in one place for a while. 

When I wake up in the morning in Stillwater, I am instantly awake, and know that I am responsible for things like making myself a lunch, teaching kids things about the world, getting help with car trouble if need be (that was Tuesday), not getting lost when driving to my friend's house in Minneapolis....those small tasks that fill the day.  Creating my own space to breathe and rest.  I like the independence and the 'seize the day' mentality that this place in the world and time in history affords me.  I feel grateful.  And I feel mindful of doing wonderful things with this life I've been given. 

Generally, in the morning, when thoughts get to the abstract, I think about the interesting things that are going to happen and who I will see and whether or not I have a creative way to discuss history yet. 



And let's be honest...for me, the best lesson planning happens sometime between drying my hair and getting to the parking lot outside of the school.  I am anything BUT a deliberate and exact planner, until the very last minute.  (Sometimes this is beautifully charming, and sometimes it's horribly lame.)   Anyway, there is movement in a morning like this.  And let's not forget...very good coffee and a sunrise over Stillwater.

But in Northfield it is different.  I come from a family of early risers, and we are generally up at the crack of dawn.  I chose to lay in bed this morning, and hear these people in the kitchen for a little while.  And I thought about my life...what it is has been in Northfield, you know...memories and all of that.  I was extremely comforted to open the shades and see the same thing I've really seen all of these years.  Oh, those trees.  They've grown, but I've always known them.  It's nice to have a morning like this too, to step away and not be Miss Christians in teacher clothes, but Jessica from a current time OR an earlier time. 

When I was little (3? 4? 5?) my hair was very fine and sort of curly, and since it was short, it would easily get very snarled in the morning.  My parents would laugh and hug me when I came into the kitchen for breakfast and make a comment about a 'little rat's nest' in the back of my head.  Typing that out, and actually imagining a rat's nest, makes me really realize how disgusting that really would be.   That's gross. 

But back then we would laugh about it and get the snarls out after breakfast.  When I was little, I wondered why they were laughing like they were.  But as an adult, I can picture the kind of laugh it was...it was a generous thing between two adults about their kid.  I've seen this in my friends who have 3 year olds.  This was always after my dad would see me entering the room and sing (with bravado) "There she is...Miss Ammeeerrica" and offer to make pancakes.   Despite the odd references to the home of a rat, it's a collection of many nice memories all linked together.

I thought about this because today I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror before going into the kitchen.  I saw my hair...it it still very fine and sort of curly and since it is short, it gets very snarled in the morning.   We are not ever too far away from our 3 year old selves.  When I got to the kitchen, I drank coffee and greeted my early rising family.  And then my dad gave me a present for Valentine's Day.  He had it ready and waiting for me.

Let me tell you, this is a wonderful way to greet the day.