I'm not going to talk about my mother this time. I'm still dealing with those issues. I'm getting a lot of counseling. Let it go at that for now.
A few weeks ago a powerful storm ripped through this area, with straight-line winds up to 70 miles an hour. It was by far the most frightening storm I have ever been through. Twice I hid in the powder room - the only room in our house with no exterior walls. The cats also hid - on their own - darting under a heavy table into the dark corner behind a file cabinet that nestles under the table. Good choice, actually - if the table had buckled, the heavy wood file cabinet would have held it up. (There wasn't room for me under there.)
There was not as much damage to buildings - or people - as there would have been with a tornado. But there was massive damage to trees and power lines - and widespread power outages.
My power went out at precisely four in the afternoon. It was out for more than four days.
After the storm calmed, my neighbors and I surveyed the damage. A huge tree down in my northern neighbors' yard, sitting on the power line which was dragged down about 15 feet. Another tree broken in half in my southern neighbors' yard, with the top half sitting at a right angle - on the power line. One trunk of an ancient crabapple tree in my front yard broken off. And then, as it began to get dark, suddenly there was a bright orange glow lighting up my back yard. FIRE! I ran down the hall to see what was burning. The stressed power line had rubbed up against a cottonwood tree, and the bark was on fire, burning despite the continued rain. Just as the 911 operator picked up, the line popped in half and fell to the ground. There were no sparks, so it had gone dead.
Then came four nights and four days that now seem almost like a dream. I was philosophical about it; I knew that the power company had to restore electricity to the most people with the least amount of effort first, and I knew that on our little street some power lines only serve as few as 3-6 houses. Fortunately, the weather cooperated after that - it wasn't blazing hot. That made a lot of difference.
The first thing I did was to go and put two thermal blankets and a spare comforter over my water bed. Trap the heat! (Not that it did much good for such a long outage, but the bed heated more quickly once everything was over.) Then I hunted out candles and some emergency lights I'd bought long ago - just press down and instant light. Then I started reading, first by the waning daylight, then by the emergency lights, later, when one of them burned out, I used them only at certain points and read by candlelight.
Each day I went to the grocery store for bags of ice and a few staples that don't need cooking. Essentials - milk, mayonnaise, apples, margarine and Frappuccino - went into coolers. I devised a way to heat leftover coffee over a tea light in the bottom of a potpourri warmer, and even warmed some soup that way. Nothing got very hot, but it was better than cold. I made tuna-apple salad the first night, and again the third night; one day I bought a big Caesar salad at the deli, another day a big sandwich that made two meals.
I went to bed early every night in the guest room; didn't sleep very well, I really need moving air (there is a ceiling fan over my bed). On the third day I threw out everything in the freezer and deep freeze and almost all of what was still in the refrigerator. I cleaned out the fridge and freezer, but found the deep freeze too difficult - it hadn't been cleaned in years. So I unplugged it, knowing I wouldn't need it anytime soon, and will get help to get it clean. I still had hot water - gas water heater! - so I was able to wash dishes and, if I got too warm, take a cool shower.
It's another world without electricity. There's so little one can do. Mosquitoes were so bad that nobody wanted to spend time outside, and anyway, the humidity was brutal. So I found myself alone in a little pool of candlelight, reading, and reading, and reading. Perhaps it's not surprising that what I chose to read was my small collection of old Gothic romances, books I hadn't wanted to read in many years.
A four-day power outage sounds like hell, but for me, it wasn't. I was calm; I was patient; and I learned things - things that have stayed with me since the power came back on after four days:
Apples are wonderful. I've eaten an apple almost every day since, either in my favorite salad with tuna or in slices with peanut butter. Sometimes for lunch, but mostly for dinner.
Don't eat at the computer. I learned the pleasure of not grabbing the most convenient and fastest thing to eat while typing. I recovered the pleasure of having a glass of skim milk with a meal. I made it a new rule - and have followed it. For every meal, I get a real plate or bowl, a real glass, and sit down with a book. The results are staggering. I'm more relaxed. I'm eating more healthy food. And I'm snacking less! I've even cut down to no more than one Frappuccino a day, and sometimes none at all.
Slow down. Sure, my computer work was backed up after four days - but nobody died from it. While I was leisurely cleaning up after each meal, lighting or blowing out candles, reading, journaling, thinking, life went on without me. It's not necessary to be in a frenzy. I reminded myself of that again today, when I had a big stack of papers to shred. At first I was frantically trying to get the next few pages separated while the previous group was in the shredder, and then I said to myself, Stop it! There's no rush.
Reading is wonderful. Sure, I knew that. I read every night in bed before going to sleep. But hey - reading is good during the day, too. So after I finish a meal, I stay there with the book for a little while longer, till I reach a good stopping point. I relax.
I even forgot to take my meds in the morning two days out of four, and was fine. (Though that's not a habit I've continued.)
Those four "dark" days were a gift from the gods. The lessons I learned have already cut the stress in my life substantially, and best of all, I know they'll continue to make a difference. I offer them to all of you in hopes they may may make you less stressed, too.
