And then there was power

Our task of waiting for Isaac turned into a task of waiting for power once he arrived. The first few days weren’t so bad.  It was still windy and rainy, so the temperatures stayed reasonable. But once Isaac moved completely out of the area, the heat set in.  And the boredom. 
 

I have to admit, I wasn’t always as nice as I should’ve been.

We were fortunate - no blessed - that we bought a generator the morning of the day that Isaac came ashore.  It was noisy and needed gasoline and meant that wires ran all over my house. But it also meant that we could keep our food cold, we had light to read by, some entertainment via DVDs, and moving hot air courtesy of a fan.

I’m never as creative as I think I’ll be in a situation like this.  I always think I’ll come up with games and activities to keep us amused and pass the time.  When it comes, though, I’m just thinking, “Gee, I’m hot” or “Gee, I’m tired” from not sleeping well.

I actually slept pretty well the first couple of nights. Dylan slept with me because the complete and utter lack of lights made him scared. RockStar slept on our futon with the fan. It worked out pretty well except for when the hot box rolled over onto me and shared his sweat.

Today, the power came back on.  It was almost a religious experience.

And so the whirlwind begins!  Mountains of laundry to do. Wires to roll up. Dishes to wash. Beds to strip. Normalcy to get reacquainted with.

We are blessed every single day, but I must admit that so often I ignore it.  I ignore the beauty of electricity, the joy of plans made and accomplished, the freedom to go anywhere and find it fully open, with power and supplies.

This limbo we’ve found ourselves in seems to have refreshed me somewhat. I feel slightly more ready to deal with what comes. Ready to make some changes for myself.  I find it difficult to focus on myself, but having experienced my negative reactions, lumbering through this powerless experience, I can see how if I can make some small changes for myself, it will help my family.

I’m turning the light on.  And trying to see clearly.

(c) Argonne Chronicles 2012