Lenten Journal

February 24, 2007
Drove alone to Indianapolis to hear my daughter Julia, who had driven to Indy earlier on the school bus, perform with her vocal emsembles at the high school ISSMA state contest. On the way down I listened to Pema Chodron's "Awakening Compassion" and to some of E. M. Forster's "Howard's End." Tonglen practice--"Drive all blame into the self" and breathe out the feelings you would like to establish. Then the adventures of Helen and Margaret Schlegel--"Only Connect." When I arrived at Warren High School the parking lot was as crowded as New York City at rush hour. Once inside, with the thousands of students and parent swarming to watch the performances, I felt like part of some larger good. Parents and students were shepherded around by dozens, maybe hundreds, of volunteers. So many students rising to the occasion, created by an association that allows for many students to have a performing experience that otherwise might be open only to a select few. Julia sang soprano in a barbershop quartet, "Baby Face," (after the judge had to listen to half a dozen renditions of "Yesterday") and they did it beautifully, with expression and style. She was so happy to see me, and snuggled up to my side, and so happy to go out to eat--she's a Vegetarian foodie. The traffic was still terrible, so we found our Veggie treats at a nearby Qdoba where we also saw a winter storm warning on the news. After her women's ensemble sang "How Can I Keep from Singing," we headed for home in the sleet and freezing rain, but first circling town to look for the bead store in Broad Ripple, and then to eat out at another fun place before returning to the more bland and familiar cuisine of our hometown. We parked and walked through blocks of puddles and slop to the Bead Store, which we had visited after last year's contest, when the weather was spring-like but bracing. This year it was closed early, the proprietor no doubt having fled because of the storm warnings we were not heeding. The Thai restaurant we wanted to eat at was closed, too, because of the weather, so we found a table at Shalimar, the Indian restaurant next door. But I grew more and more worried, so we asked for styrofoam boxes and began the drive home. By the time we got on the road home we were crawling through an ice storm, driving about 30 mph the entire way. Here I was traveling with my most precious daughter, having waited in Indy to please her, and now taking both of our lives in my hands as I drove through a desert of snow and ice, the road barely visible. At one point along State Route 31 I saw lights flashing intermittently like someone was setting off firecrackers. But it was actually the electrical wires that had come loose from their poles and were showering out sparks and flames into the snow and ice. I was glad that the bursts of flame were coming from the opposite side of the road. And breathed a prayer of gratitude when we finally crawled into our driveway about midnight.