How are you?

I hail from Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes, 10 million Scandinavians, and only 3 comfortable topics of conversation: the weather, Minnesota sports teams, and, oh - I guess there are only two.  Beyond commenting on our weather, and the abysmal state of Minnesota sports, most true Minnesotans do not like to get too...deep.  You see, Minnesota "nice" is actually more of a "Minnesota passive-aggressive-please-don't-ask-too-many-questions-because-I-don't-want-to-actually-share-about-myself".  Guilty, as charged.  A typical Minnesota conversations begins with an enthusiastic (if not forced) hello!  If you are greeting a person with German, Bohemian, Czech, or Italian ancestry, they will most likely hug you.  Us Scandinavians?  We go with it, but anything longer than a 3 second cursory "bro hug" makes us start to sweat.  After the "hello!", comes the "How ARE you?"  Here's the reality.  We don't actually care.  If you are having a polite Minnesota conversation, you must answer with, "Fine, you?" to which the other person will also answer "Fine!", and then move on to the two safe topics of conversation.  After about 7 years, you move on to adding family and kids to the conversation, but be careful not to move too fast.  Think of Minnesotans like Jell-o.  Takes a while for the substance to form, but when it does, its an oddly acquired taste.

Enter current life situation: I have just experienced an enormous tragedy.  I'm not going to deny that.  I will, however, find a little bit of humor in the situation.  I have to.  When you live in Minnesota, and you have just had your heart wrenched out of your chest, twisted into knots, and then shoved back in with a piece of it missing, conversations get a little...awkward.  The traditional "hello!" is more of a subdued, "hi", followed immediately by a hug.  Ancestral backgrounds get shoved aside in a Minnesota tragedy.  Everyone becomes a hugger.  Everyone.  And they are definitely NOT 3 second "bro hugs".  Thankfully, there's usually a two-tap on the back to let you know when the hug has gotten a bit too long.  Because we are conditioned to have the proper Minnesota conversation from birth, our mouths, without thinking, immediately spit out "How ARE you?" right after the hug.  Its reflexive.  Can't stop it.  But, let me tell you, once that phrase flies out of the mouth, you see it in the eyes.  The look.  The horror.  The fear.  The "what-in-the-world-did-I-just-do, I-asked-a-woman-who-just-lost-her-husband-how-are-you" stare.  Meanwhile, my brain is processing just as quickly.  Do I stay true to my Minnesota heritage?  Do I say, "I'm fine." when everyone knows I'm lying.  Do I say, "Well, my world has been turned upside down and I don't know how I am," and take the express train to awkward-ville?  Do I say nothing?  Minnesota conversations were not meant for tragic circumstances.

So, what would I say if I suspended every ingrained social norm?  I'd say, I'm heartbroken.  I'm numb.  I loaded the dishwasher today, and it felt like a monumental task.  I washed my husband's clothes, and immediately regretted it.  I walked down to the end of the cul-de-sac and back, just to feel the cool air on my face.  I walked into the sanctuary at church today, and the moment I crossed that threshold I broke down sobbing uncontrollably.  I ate almost an entire grain bowl from Panera, and that was the most food I have eaten at one time in a week.  I simultaneously want to rip every picture of Andrew off the walls, and wallpaper the house with his face.  I read and reread the comments and notes from people on various posts, and I cry as much as I did the first time.  I went to the funeral home today, and made the arrangements for my husband's burial.  When the mortician reiterated that he was 38 years old, I wanted to scream.  That's how I am.  That's what's real.

Pain like this, heartache like this, its all the consequence of allowing myself to completely and unconditionally love another person.  Before I met Andrew, I had never allowed myself to do that.  With him, I couldn't help it.  I couldn't NOT love him.  That's what makes losing him so awful, and at the same time, I am so grateful.  I would not be able to love Andrew the way that I have and the way that I will if I had not first been loved by God.  There's a comfort in knowing that the same God who is embracing my husband at this very moment, is also wrapping me in the same loving embrace.  Just like a Daddy.

Tonight's song is "Who You Say I Am":

"Who am I that the highest King would welcome me
I was lost but He brought me in
Oh His love for me
Oh His love for me

Who the Son sets free
Oh is free indeed
I'm a child of God
Yes I am
In my Father's house
There's a place for me
I'm a child of God
Yes I am

I am chosen, not forsaken
I am who You say I am
You are for me, not against me
I am who You say I am
Oh I am who You say I am"