As most of you know by now, the Big Bad Wolf Sandy, strutted her stuff around here this past week, leaving a trail of mass destruction in her wake. I was one of those folks affected by her huffing and puffing. Allow me state up front, THIS WAS A NATIONAL DISASTER and I by no means wish to trivialize this catastrophic weather event. Many people lost their homes and some lost their lives. I'm constantly humbled by the power of Mother Nature and how truly meek we are in comparison. In contrast, I suppose I was one of the fortunate few. My roof suffered some minor damage as did our fence and we lost lights, heat and hot water for four days dictating that we to$$ a fridge full of food. I was inconvenienced. I was anxious. I was put out and put upon. My mind frantically sought out some sense of normalcy as my kids moved into my sister's house where there was still electricity though no TV or Internet. I drove around town dodging fallen trees and avoiding accidents at intersections with missing traffic lights. I rationed my gas, as it swiftly became, and still remains, a precious commodity. I jokingly referred to these days as my "Amish Experiment." Yet deep down I was not laughing. I was panicking. I was learning. I was taking stock of the human mind, my own and others, and observing how it reacts to being thrust out of its element and into a state of chaos.
Most people are creatures of habit. We relish the known. We shrink from that which is foreign or uncomfortable. Uncertainty breeds anxiety. And perhaps we don't truly appreciate the simple luxuries in life - like flipping a switch and having it obey. Like a cup of coffee in the a.m., going to work, earning a paycheck, and coming home to a hot meal in a home you know and love. Watching your favorite TV shows in the evening. A warm shower. A warm bed. Maybe we take these things for granted. Maybe the Universe intends to remind us, every now and then. The message:
All that we have is terribly temporary and can, at any given moment, be taken away from us, just like that.
Waking this morning in a place that feels like mine again (TV playing softly in the background, laptop up and running, toast on my plate) is a strange yet lovely sensation. It's crazy how the mind quickly forgets its routines when forced out of them, and how when presented with the opportunity, will become cautiously, giddily reacquainted.
At this moment many East Coast residents are still without power. Many have suffered unimaginable losses. Please continue to keep their recovery in your mind and consider helping out in some small way, even if only with a prayer.
This is just one scene of what transpired, a tree across a roadway near our home.This was mild in comparison to other photos I've seen. May God bless this area and its communities and bring about a speedy return to life as we knew it.