Storm Of The Century

They say things like this all the time. "Storm of the Century!" the headline will say. Or "Biggest snowfall of the decade!" or "Worst storm of the year." Usually Steve and I will glance at each other and then snort. "It's only January," we'll say. Or "it's 2010. The decade / century has just begun. HOW do they know?"

People seemed really hyped up about Sandy. There was a lot of giggling, a lot of eye rolling. People made jokes about not needing to stock up (I've still got all my stuff from Irene that I never used!) and people complained about the universe being out to ruin Halloween.

We braced for the storm. I expected a few downed branches. Maybe another fallen tree. We expected to lose power - I mean, let's face it, we lose power every few months. I got out all the flashlights. Steve bought gas for the generator. We charged up out electronic devices, our ipads, our computers, our phones.

I expected, in my self-centered, ego-centric world, that we would get the worst of the storm. We love in the country. There are trees. We always get the worst of the storm. At least compared to most of the people we knew.

It rained. The wind blew.

Facebook lit up with people updating the world on when they lost power.

And then the news sites started showing photographs of floating cars and waves hitting people.

A few daredevils I know posted pictures of an optimistic Atlantic Ocean. One picture was from a car that got soaked in salt water seconds later. One picture was of a plywood dam, taken from a second floor window which no longer exists.

Most of our town lost power. The kids were out of school for three days, and Halloween was postponed for the second year in a row. (The Universe Hates Halloween.)

We did not lose power.

Oh, there was a moment when the lights went out, and I called out "This is it, guys!" and then, twenty seconds later, the lights came back on. And they stayed on.

I wish I could say the same for my family.

My parents were evacuated out of their NYC apartment when a crane collapsed nearby. They don't know how to dismantle the crane (it was a tall one, building a lovely eyesore skyrise,) and everyone is afraid it will simply fall and crash into nearby buildings. The trouble is, in the hurry to get out, someone was left behind - a small, tail-less cat named Cinder.

The building is now padlocked. Jamie could not get in to retrieve the cat, and was told it would be 4-5 weeks before they'd be let back in. He led the  Save Cinder! movement until someone directed him to the back of the building, where they let people in small numbers (five) so that they might collect pets and other important items. Medication. Coats. Computers.

So my parents are refugees, as is my brother.

Areas have been flooded. Public transportation is broken, due to flood damage in the subway tunnels. Linda is without heat, running water, electricity. She says people are plugging cell phones into every outlet they can find - at banks, at the posts of some building (was it the library?)

Remember the boat? Steve's boat? Well, I don't think I ever posted about this, but Steve sold the boat, just a few weeks ago. Which turns out to be kind of lucky. Because the boat was totaled in the storm. Another boat broke from it's mooring and smashed into her. I feel bad, though, for the guy who bought her. He is from South Jersey, and although his insurance will more than cover the cost of the boat, he and his wife lost their home in the storm.

I'm getting all over the place, here. The thing is, there has been a major disruption. And so much damage. I feel horrible, and helpless, and wish I could do something.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that things get back to normal soon. I'm hoping that damage is easily repaired. I'm thinking of my family and of the so many many people who has lost so much. And reminding myself that we never know what this storm will bring, or the next.

Happy New Year!

When most people do New Year's in New York, they get this:

Remember, this is twelve blocks from the dropping ball.

Thanks to Linda and my parents, when we do New Year's in New York, we get this:

Oh, yes. My family knows how to have a party.

Of course, by the time the ball actually drops, we're more like this:

Seasonal Power Outage

This morning, after my alarm went off, I made the choice not to go running. I had a late choir rehearsal last night, and I wanted to get a little more sleep before I started my day. This isn't an easy choice to make, as I sometimes don't fall asleep after the alarm wakes me, and even if I do, I sometimes spend the day wishing I had taken the time to work out.

Five minutes after I turned off my snooze, I hear the dreaded blip that signifies NO POWER. We've had rain for the past few days, and last night the wind picked up. Apparently it was enough to somehow take out a power line.

Maybe it's just me, but I am now unable to not over-react to this sort of thing. In the past, a power outage would mean a few hours in the dark. But these days, each time the power goes out I start out assuming we'll be out for days. I started taking inventory in my mind. Where were the flashlights? Did they have batteries? How long would puck's insulin last in the fridge? Would there be school? How would I find out if there was school without TV or the internet? Should I wake Steve and get him to start the generator? Would the power be back when we put up the tree? Would the power be back in time for Andrew's birthday party? What if it was back for the party but not back in time for me to clean the house? Should I cancel?

I heard the boys wake up. I heard them scramble around and then make a group trip to the bathroom, Andy lighting the way with the Lego-Man Lantern. This is when I got up. I rescued a couple of flashlights and replaced batteries in one. I lit a couple of candles and gave the boys some cereal. I fed the pets and gave puck his medication.

And then the power came back on.

I feel as though my day has brightened already! Even though it's still windy and rainy.