I was talking with my daughter last night when a huge storm hit the area. I was waiting for our home to be picked up and start swirling away. Since my head was already going in circles, that thought was not particularly frightening. However, snap and our power went out. Not that long ago, our power was out from Monday morning to a Friday evening. Dread quickly washed over me. I sat alone on the couch waiting for light while speaking in a half whisper to my daughter. Still no power. We waited longer with no change. Then the lights flickered on and relief poured through me. It hadn’t gotten very far when the lights were off again. It had to be less than 1.2 seconds. I hadn’t even finished telling my daughter when I heard a far away voice from upstairs. My husband called, “It’s dark up here!”
After a fast, “Stephanie, I have to go.” I went in search for any kind of light. I knew the location of several of our jarred candles since the prior night the oven was emitting smoke like a fire breathing dragon. That’s another story though. I felt pretty proud of myself now having three candles, a laptop and iPhone all brightly glowing. I headed off to find my husband.
We soon sat on the family room couch, each quietly praying for Com Ed to do its magic. Bob did the manly task of going outside and checking the neighborhood. He reported that it was dark all over, not too big of a surprise since it was after 9:00 pm. We decided to try to go to sleep since our apprehension of another long, hot haul was not getting us anywhere.
We finished with the evening’s rituals of clean teeth, jammies and meds and laid down pretending we were both tired. You could hear us each stirring, trying to get comfortable while not disturbing the other. The only one we bothered was the comfortable dog. Bob’s movements were finally still and my brain bounced along inside my head. I could begin to hear the now familiar sound of generators roaring throughout the neighborhood. Bob had already called Steve, the young man from the fish store who planned to be at our home at the ungodly hour of 5 am to start hooking up our tanks. The fish need “flow” even if it were still dark at that time. The saga returned.
Suddenly, I heard loud thumps at our front door. I hesitated probably because I was once again in that famed striped nightshirt I had worn the night of our fire. It was the one I didn’t want the firefighters to see so I had dashed upstairs in a vain effort to change clothes. (I think I’m getting rid of this item of sleepwear.) I knew I couldn’t ignore the second round of pounding. I was too hot to grab a robe, so off I went hobbling down the stairs, pretty sure whom I would find making all that racket.
Sure enough! Our neighbor stood at our front door with a flash light draped around his shoulders and the gleam in his eye of a masked raider ready to come to the aid of the elderly. He had been a Godsend in our last bout of darkness and already knew the routine. Before I knew it, the refrigerator was out from the wall and extension cords were strewn throughout the hallways. The gasoline stench and unmistakable roar could be heard on the back patio. We were almost ready for Round 2.
Gradually, Bob and I had all five tanks plugged in, and both refrigerators now had power. An old box fan sat upon my dresser all set to cool our sweaty bodies. We collapsed in bed, and Bob quickly fell asleep. I was too wired to even think of sleeping so I counted the various generators by their different roars.
About an hour later, our power was restored. I wasn’t sure of my next plan of action. Did I need to get up and go unplug and re-plug everything? It was almost 3:00 am. I loved my husband’s wisdom as he muttered. “Leave them plugged in just in case we lose power again tonight.” He’s brilliant.
So the sun is bright now. I just Skyped the boys, men are still painting our gazebo, the branches are generally picked up in the yard and the generators are all still. We no longer have cords snaking through our home. My only task now is to reset all the timers on the tanks and lights. The clocks still flash in our bedroom, but our home is far cooler. Enough nightly calisthenics for me; I prefer a more leisurely bedtime routine. Thanks for the neighbors and fish dude ready to help. Life is good.
Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good:
- The fear of being hurled away by a tornado is lessened when you already have vertigo!
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