When will the Power Come Back On?

Coming home from a full day of work to no air conditioning and no power got to me tonight. I had no desire to stoke up the fire and cook dinner, even after the cold shower. Some great Israeli food was waiting for me, though, complements of Mana Mana via my lovely assistant, Susan. Her original suggestion of A/C by cinema was abandoned in favor of A/C by book store, and here we sit, side-by-side sharing an electric outlet in the “C” aisle of the Fiction & Literature section. We’ll have three hours of relative normalcy before heading home to the warm, damp, dark stickiness. 

When will the power come back on? 

It is not just about the air conditioner, even with Florida’s heat and humidity. No. Nor it is just about being able to cook on the stove nor even just about having to go out to piggy-back on someone else’s WIFI. It is about feeling Normal, feeing that life is your own and the Danger is fully over. The hurricane is not a single day’s event, though it passes through in about a day’s time. The storm appears on the consciousness’ horizon a full week ahead with the first satellite images of the Atlantic tropical storm forming off the African coast. The apprehension builds slowly with the preparations. Buy charcoal. Use up all the food in the freezer and fridge. Accept an evacuation invitation from friends up the road on higher ground. Select just your most valuable possessions and pack all the vehicles with them. Eat your last meal in the home you may never see again.

When will the power come back on?

Watch the storm reports in relative safety. Start to breathe again, if your home was spared. Start the process of cleaning up. Watch the economy begin to spin itself back up from dead stop imposed by the counter-clockwise rotation of the storm. Marvel at the sudden helpfulness of neighbors.

Begin the final arrangements for grandpa who lasted through the night of the storm, but passed from our reach before we could check in on him the Day After. The Day After offers a blessed overcast coolness before the full heat of Florida’s September sun returns to sear and illuminate every scar.

We are  5 days since Irma’s visit, but the kitchen will not be fully cleaned until the light switch similiarly reveals just what a disaster it has become. The fridge will not be scrubbed clean until there is a load of groceries ready and able to be kept cold.

 When will the power come back on? When will this chapter be over? When can we finally turn the page? 

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The Guern

Software developer by day; kilt wearing roller-skier (looking for snow) by night. A Norseman misplaced, living in the Deep South.

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