Dark Was the Night

Disclosure: My best friend works for one of the artists on this album, so my opinion is probably influenced by her talking this album up, pre-release.

Last night, I downloaded "Dark Was the Night", the newly released album produced by Aaron and Bryce Dessner from one of my favorite bands, The National, as an AIDS and HIV awareness project.

Besides Feist and The National, the album features an impressive list of artists, including Beirut, Kronos Quartet, Bon Iver, Arcade Fire, Cat Power, The Decemberists, and more. It's a two-CD set, and it is working much-needed magic in my soul.

Living in the rural midwest is a lot easier in 2009 than it would have been in the past. Ten years ago, I would have needed to drive to St. Louis on the release date of an album like this, hoping that a store like Vintage Vinyl might have it in stock. Last night, I downloaded it from my bedroom.

Ten years ago, I'd probably have been one of the only people I knew digging an album like this one. Now, I can probably find a thousand people online talking about it. 

So as I sit in my big, red, paisly arm chair, feet propped up and sun streaming in my window, I listen to this album, and I don't feel far from NYC at all.

Thankful for One More Day

The morning sun was at my back as I drove North on Highway 8. I was hovering just below the speed limit as I approached the Potosi city limits.

There is no turning lane on the highway in that spot, so when I saw a car passing the pick-up, I realized that the truck was in my lane. I slammed on my brakes, gripping the steering wheel with my left hand and throwing my right hand to my horn. 

The grey and black Ford F-150 looked like a wall of steel standing before me as I braced for impact. 

The left front end of his truck struck my front driver's side. His truck scraped down the side of my car, and I watched the shoulder of the road move all too quickly beneath my tires.

I felt my car leave the road, then the shoulder of the road, and finally come to a stop nose-down in a six-foot ditch.

I put the car in park. By the time I got out and turned to look at the scene of the accident, the truck's driver was already halfway between his truck and my car, asking me if I was alright, and

apologizing.

Adrenaline pumping, my hands began to shake. Soon my arms and shoulders began to shiver and shake, too. 

By the time the police reports were written, the car was on a tow truck and I had arrived at the auto shop, I was sick to my stomach and exhausted.

My dad helped me with the phone calls and paperwork for insurance and a rental car, and then I worked a 7 hour day, leaving the office well after 9 p.m. 

I slept for 12 hours last night though, and spent today with a sadness in my stomach that I can't explain.

The sadness was there yesterday as well. I wished someone would hug me so that I could let the tears flow. Instead, I worked. Today I cleaned and unpacked more boxes, and only now, after midnight, in my bed alone, are a few tears falling.

I wasn't afraid. As I braced for impact, I felt at peace with whatever was about to happen.  

What a strange thing - to be aware of that sense of peace even as a Ford truck is pummeling the car you're driving. I think I resigned myself in that moment that I was prepared for whatever hand God was dealing me. 

I was a blessed woman to have landed in the cozy 6-foot ditch that I landed in (rather than in any number of 50+ foot drop-offs along that highway), and while I was at peace with whatever was going to happen, I am so, so thankful that I was given another day to wake up and live today. 

Smalltowngirl

Taken 3/14/09 in Potosi, MO