How Quickly I Forget

It’s been almost two years since I moved from Cincinnati, Ohio, with a population of over 2 million, to small-town Manchester, Iowa, with a little over 5,000 residents. I went from a major East Coast city (in my mind) to a farm community in Iowa (again, in my mind), and I am still adjusting.

The other night, I was trying to sleep and the number of trains traveling through town was irritating me. These beasts are required to blow their horn at every intersection. Since I live in the heart of this little city less than 4 blocks from the tracks, those train whistles are a near-constant interruption. I believe that when they reach the city limits, they just set those things to split the night every few seconds. And, let me point out that the ‘whistle’ description is a far cry from the shrieking air horns used today. Did I say 4 blocks? I think that under the cover of darkness, someone moves those tracks into my driveway every night.

I bemoaned this state of affairs while walking this week. You know how we stew over irritations by making exhaustive lists in our minds of each infraction, right? My list was getting unmanageable. The trains, of course, but other things can be annoying when living in rural communities, especially when you’ve come from large cities.

• Nobody just pops over to Target around here. The closest is 40 miles away.
• If insurance doesn’t cover the local medical practitioner, be prepared for another trek of more than 20 miles – each way.
• I bought tires in Cincinnati with free rotation. That was easy since at the time, the distance was less than a mile. But here? Let’s try 35 and you need to make an appointment.

But something happened on that walk of misery. As I was remembering big-city life, I started remembering BIG-CITY life.

I can’t say why, but memory had glossed over previous exasperations. Once considered, I noticed former unnerving and even life-threatening situations had been resurrected in my consciousness.

• Traffic congestion.
• The sound of fire, ambulance, and police sirens – constantly, all day and all night.
• Needing to keep the windows closed in the summer months because of the biker gangs gathering at the gas station across the street. Loud motorcycle engines revving because well, that growing rumbling noise is cool, don’cha know. The loud fights, the drinking, and yes, the occasional report of a .45 piercing the night is always such a pleasure. Good news if there is no return fire.
• Needing a car cover beginning every fall for the tiny. slivered leaves falling on an ungaraged car.
• The ice storms that followed every winter and finding that cover frozen to the car in the morning.
• Being 600 miles away from my daughter, her husband, and 4 grandchildren.

Once this litany began to take over control of my thoughts, I was no longer counting the inconvenience of one population center over another. Reasoning began to guide me toward an understanding that wherever you find yourself, there are things that will be annoying.

There will also be things that will invoke gratitude.

For the rest of my morning exercise, my mind was consumed with thanksgiving. I realized that in reality, these common irritations were limited in scope - sometimes based only on mood.

However, the list of “I-am-grateful for” was revealed to be endless. If you find that hard to believe, I encourage you to try it someday.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  James 1:17