The Winter of My Life

As I wake up to the sound of the wind and wonder if there has been any snowfall, I head to the window to take a look. Reaching for the blinds, it occurs to me that even though winter is coming fast just outside my window, I feel like it’s springtime in my own life. I’m slowly emerging from one of the longest, coldest, hardest winters of my life. It’s actually lasted several years. Hard to believe, I know.

I’ve tried to put on a happy face through it all, and I’ve learned that that was maybe not the best thing to do. Except for a very few close friends and family members, no one knows the depths of my own, personal winter. It started in Kwethluk, Alaska, and ended in Regent, North Dakota, spanning a distance of around 6,000 miles. Google can’t even calculate it.

Don’t get me wrong, there were some bright moments, as there always are during any winter. It just so happens that winter is my favorite season. Perhaps I like the struggle of it all. My own life has been quite a struggle, quite analogous to winter, in itself. Hardship has always been my companion, my comfort zone, my pillow. I’ve learned to smile at people and say - I’m doing great. I can make something out of nothing. I’ve been a single mom for 15 years. I don’t need a man. Money doesn’t matter. I’d rather have a few friends than a big family. I can do it all myself. And on and on. The truth is… that I’m ready for Spring.

I’m not doing great, but I’m doing better. I’m learning to play the guitar again, finding my inner song. It’s a lonesome, melancholy melody. But, it’s beautiful. I’m working as the baker at the Regent Co-op, with earnings pretty close to the poverty line and no health benefits which is scary, but I’m needed there and that feels good. The Hungarian Mushroom Soup that I made for Friday’s lunch sold out in less than an hour! That made me smile. And, of course, here I am writing again. Now, that really says something. I’m doing better.

I can’t always make something out of nothing. I like to think I can. I thought I could. That’s why I put my entire life, savings account, and retirement into buying the Fresh Sourdough Express Bakery & Café. Yeah, that didn’t work out so well. I literally put everything I had into it, even my children. But, I feel like I made a deal with the devil, twice actually, trying to keep it afloat. First of all, when I first purchased the place, the deal was that I would train all summer (of 2012) in all aspects of the business. The truth was that I was given a salary of $2,500 per month and worked 100 hours per week. I was scheduled to fill shifts as needed in the bakery, as a dishwasher, waitress, barista, prep cook, you name it. I was never shown how to price plates, buy in bulk, create menus, keep track of expenses, etc. I was a servant, not a manager-in-training. Only, I didn’t realize how little I knew until the business became 100% mine on September 1^st with no money in the bank, heading into the first winter season in over 15 years. The rest of that story will come later, but rest assured that I learned a valuable lesson about taking over a business with no liquid assets and zero business experience… I can’t make something out of nothing.

I have been a single mom for 15 years, but honestly, that’s nothing to brag about and it’s not as much an indication of my strength as it is of my need for solitude and self-imposed seclusion. Like hardship, seclusion is an old friend. I can thank my childhood for that. Solitude is on the same plane as safety in my mind. Opening myself up to having a partner who would help raise my children was way outside my safety zone. Being raised with abusive stepfathers (plural) myself, that was out of the question. After all, do you ever truly know someone? That was not a chance I was willing to take with my beautiful daughters. Add to that the fact that their father filed for custody three times during the first five years after our divorce, each time was when I entered into a serious relationship… well, that made me give up, for sure. As a side note, the only thing that ever came of those three custody court battles was an increase in his child support each time. I’m sure he thinks he won, and maybe in some way he did, because I never had a serious relationship after that. But, in my mind, I was in control.

I don’t need a man. Now, that one is true, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to have one in my life. That someone special who reminds me that I’m beautiful and that I don’t always have to be the strong one. I basically swore off men until both of my girls were out of the house and on their own. It’s been just over a year now that I’ve been on my own. Empty Nest is not nearly a strong enough term to explain what that feels like. My other single-mother friends will know exactly what I mean. I dabbled in relationships this summer and that didn’t work out so well. I dated a younger man, 32, who committed suicide a couple of weeks after we stopped seeing eachother (it really wasn’t as much of a break-up as it was a mutual understanding). I’m in no way taking responsibility for what he did… he was an extremely sensitive soul who was dealing with a lot of demons. But, knowing I was his last relationship struck me deep. Relationships came fast and hard for me this summer. I then dated another man who was ready to get married the first week we were together. That one didn’t end so well either… I think he’s now on a fishing vessel in the Bering Sea somewhere. Time and space heals the heart and strengthens the soul. This summer was the darkest part of the winter for me, relationships included. With spring come new possibilities… I’ve met a combiner (a farmer, if you will) who I see on occasion. I met him in the middle of harvest season, which doesn’t end until Thanksgiving here, so that means we don’t see a whole lot of each other, which I think is a good thing. I would describe him as a cross between Clint Eastwood and John Wayne, very western in his approach to life and love. It’s a welcome change to be around someone so hardworking and laid back, just taking life as it comes, but as loyal as the day is long (during an Alaskan summer, that is).

Money does matter. I learned that the hard way by losing the restaurant. However, sometimes it’s more important to know what you don’t have than what you do. I left Alaska with my dog and what could fit into my car, shipping out only 9 boxes of belongings. My life of 46 years was reduced to that. Humbling? Yes. Scary? Yes. The art of realism is being able to separate the actual necessities of life from perception. My long winter has brought me enlightenment, if nothing else. I came out of winter with next to nothing, using up all possible resources, but ready to embrace the newness of spring. I feel kind of like a new spring baby, going from restauranteur to local baker. However, learning to run the Kysar family hunting ranch (www.kysarfarms.com) has really rounded out my life here. After all, it is the entire reason I came to North Dakota. To see hunter after hunter pay $150 to kill three pheasants belies my inner reasoning power. Yet, they do it day after day. Extremely wealthy men arrive in their new, freshly pressed hunter orange outfits and pay $1,000 to stay in a bunk room with other men for 4 days, sharing a bathroom, a kitchen table, and, no doubt, countless stories over beer and Crown in the evenings after shooting their three pheasants each day somewhere buried in the 1,180 acres of prime hunting land surrounding us. They fly and drive in from all over the country, year after year, to have this summer-camp type of experience, escaping their lives as bankers, doctors, & lawyers, if only for a few days. Yes, money does matter.

As much as I do love my few close friends, I’ve come to realize how important family is. If it weren’t for the Kysar family, I wouldn’t be as happy as I find myself right here right now. My family has been my safety net. Actually, I feel like they needed me as much as I needed them and it’s been wonderfully rejuvenating to reconnect with them. I’ve never lived anywhere before where the Kysar name was recognized. It’s actually kind of fun to introduce myself in Regent and have people say, “Are you related to… (fill in the blank).” Yes! I am! Friends cannot replace family ties. That, I know. Blood is truly thicker than water. The Kysars are a fairly prolific bunch and I’m proud to be a part of them. I know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my dad… not only for his original contribution to my conception, but much more so because of his continual support and belief in me. I have a family, and for the first time in my life I’m embracing it.

I can’t do everything myself. My family has taught me this. More importantly, I don’t have to do everything myself. And, it’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of solidarity, which is a positive turn in my life. Not only family is important, but neighbors are important, as well. I’ve never known so many of my neighbors as I do here where my nearest is almost 2 miles away. Yet, when I first moved in, they stopped by to visit, exchange phone numbers, and assure me that if I needed anything, I could call them anytime. When we lost power for 23 hours a couple of weeks ago during our first winter storm, my neighbors called to check in on me – that has Never happened to me before, anywhere I’ve lived. What a weight has been lifted to know that I don’t have to do everything myself! I have family AND neighbors! I am blessed.

This morning’s wind brought only rain, no snow. But, the clouds are looming and temps are dropping. It won’t be long until winter socks me in from the outside. But, on the inside, it is spring and I’m just emerging to this new life with new challenges and new rewards.