The Aftermath

Hello again, Friends.

We spent a few days without power and then a couple more without cable, phone, or Internet access. All has been up and running again since the Saturday After Sandy, but I have been caught up in some sorting…

I’ve been sorting through work of all varieties that needs some attention – things that fell to the wayside during the storm and subsequent outages. There are still photos to post (promised back before the storm) and a few drafts to finish for the blog. But there is also work for the day job and laundry to tackle. At this very moment, Fab Hub is sorting through the bags of groceries he just brought in to replace the things that had to be trashed after the Great Refrigerator Purge.

A definite positive, by the way, is the way our refrigeratorgleamslike showroom-new. We took advantage of the emptiness and cleaned every little inch of it. My Mother would be very proud.

I have also taken my time posting here again since pre-Sandy because I have been spending that time sorting through my various emotional responses to this whole thing. I considered several different posts, but none seemed quite appropriate for one reason or another. So I figured to go with the “less is more”/”silence is golden” option until I was better able to put thoughts into words.

Truth is, I was a pretty big brat about the whole power outage thing. I am not proud of myself. But as I’ve said here before, the truth can always be told. The storm was scary – 80 mph wind gusts are most assuredly fear-inducing. And our house is situated on the top of a little mountain in a still very new development with very small trees and so we are rather exposed. Oh, and it’s one of those three-story concrete slab above ground jobs rather than an underground basement, so it really feels like we are teetering at the top of the world.

Kidzilla was scared to the point of shaking. I brought her into our room, but once the power went out, she was afraid not only of the sound of the storm, but of the utter darkness. I had no idea how much a scared child breeds fear into a mom until that night. Other fears in Kidzilla’s little life have been relatively innocuous and easily solved. This bad girl Sandy was a whole new experience.

By Tuesday, I was in full-force crabby mode for several reasons: a terrified kid, no power, a fridge full of lost food, that time of the month worse than ever plus a head and chest cold with no power and no hot water to offer relief, no response from the power company about when we could expect power to be restored for a full two days and then the answer was a lousy one. And then I allowed my foul humor to compound itself by attaching all of the above to the fact that this was our third multi-day power outage in fourteen months and the universe had conspired against us to cause Fab Hub’s job to be eliminated back in May.

Clearly, the Fates were out to get us.

In my heart, I knew that overall none of these things were devastating or earth-shattering. I knew that there were people who were suffering far worse conditions than we were relative to every one of my complaints and inconveniences. I (shamefully) have to admit that I even went so far as to say that I had prayed for them and felt bad for them but I had reached the end of my patience and was tired of caring about the worse-off crowd.

How ridiculously dramatic.

And how embarrassing.

I’d like to hit the delete button right now and pretend like I was someone better in those moments. But I won’t.

My Family did not raise any of us to think or react in that manner. They would most assuredly not be proud of my little display of temper and immaturity.

Thinking back, even as those terrible words exited my lips, I knew that we were still safe, warm, and incredibly blessed to be in such a position where the worst that happened to us was the inconvenience of losing power and some food items. I was aware from contact with friends and family and from occasional glimpses of news via my waning cell phone Internet access that there was serious aftermath for a great number of people. Serious aftermath. The moment that I finally pulled my head out of my proverbial ass was when I saw the photo of the little girl (about Zilla’s age perhaps) standing in her Halloween costume complete with tulle skirt and rhinestone princess tiara amidst the rubble of Sandy’s aftermath.

My heart broke. I thought, “There but for the grace of God go I…” My heart broke into a million pieces and I wept. I wept for that little girl and for her mother. I wept for all those who were truly in far more dire straits than my family ever was. I wept for those far away and for those five minutes away who were – and are still – without power, food, communication access, light and warmth…and so much more. I wept for shame…shame that I thought even for a second that I had any right to think that my problems were the worst of all. I wept because My Daughter saw me behave in a manner of which I can never be proud.

That all bothered me for a couple of days. OK, it still does.

But there is forgiveness in the world – including the kind we need to offer our Selves every now and then. There is always something better, something more positive to come of our lowest moments in life – if we allow it to be so. I’m going to call this one a Lesson. I am going to allow it to serve as a reminder of the person I do not want to be. I am going to allow it to serve as a reminder of how very blessed we are. I will remember that I am human and therefore prone to sin and error; I will forgive myself, ask forgiveness of God and of others, and I will move forward.

In the end, that is all any of us can ask and all any of us can do.

Peace.