It’s one of those mornings when I’m awake in the middle of the night, eyes burning, mind churning, and not with the usual checklists or unusual dreams that force me out of necessary sleep.
I’m up and scanning CNN.com, Weather.com, and NewYorkTimes.com. I’m searching and reading to see how Hurricane Sandy is progressing, and I’m checking my phone to see if my younger son has texted. I reached his brother last night; both are in college along the Northeast corridor.
My intention was only to message them to make sure they had provisions. And yes, also to recommend they not do anything stupid in a dangerous situation – as if, at this stage, they would actually listen.
We all know that teens and young adults feel immortal.
But it’s 3:30 a.m. and there’s no text from my son. I contemplate starting the day, forcing myself instead to doze for another hour. And I dream – vividly – that I’m a one-woman styling business for those starting over in life.
In fact I’m picking through racks of clothes, holding up a gray wool suit for a 30-something man, then pointing him to a stack of button down shirts as I advise that he needs a 17 inch neck and a 34-35 inch sleeve.
Next I’m mulling a selection of skirts. In the process, I encounter some of my own favorite outfits from the 80s and 90s – a time when I felt immortal.
And then I come upon two pairs of soft kid leather gloves in a pile. First a brilliant purple and nearby, a fiery red. I recognize these accessories as ones I own today, and I’m delighted with my finds, though I wake again suddenly and all I can think of are my children.
So I open my laptop again and return to checking CNN, the Weather Channel, the New York Times, and then my Blackberry. Still nothing from my younger son, but it occurs to me to try Facebook, where he has in fact left a message just hours before.
Everything is fine. At least, for now.
I head into the kitchen and brew some coffee. I read at my leisure through several cups. When light breaks I begin my work, periodically checking the hurricane news as I imagine I will throughout the day. I’m acutely aware of nature’s power, how fragile we all are, and how much energy we expend on matters of no importance.
An important reminder today, D. My thoughts are with your sons, my family, and everyone who finds themselves in the path of the storm. (And may the rest of us use this occasion as a reminder to worry about the things that matter most.)
Thoughts are with friends on the east coast of the US and also for you – nature is mighty and reminds us who is boss after all.
Best wishes to you x
I visited today, even on the road, because I was thinking of you. Stay safe.
Windy here, lost power for an hour and a half (Fran was knitting by candlelight), and if we lose power again, so what. Then we had dinner by candlelight as usual, even though electricity had come back on. I rather like a wind, though feel sorry for those few for whom it is a serious problem. My institution canceled classes Monday and Tuesday and has bombarded me with emergency updates on my cell. But the schools are well prepared for this sort of thing — solid buildings and tons of food, much of it ready to use in such circumstances. Not meaning to play things down and each storm has its own problems, but I’ve seen worse (of course, we’re just coming out of the eye now). Hey, we’re not in a tent. Sudden winds/squalls on the mountain can be a worry, and they can occur suddenly on otherwise nice days.
Glad to know you and Fran are doing okay!
Our youngest is on the eastern coast as well, although not as far north. I’m constantly checking hurricane status from August through November! Some of the spring storms in her area were pretty wicked. I feel your worry.
Thinking of you and your sons — hoping everyone comes out on the other side okay.
I checked during the night, CT. As of then, both weren’t in areas affected other than lots of rain so far. Seeing how things were progressing they were taking it more seriously. Checking again today, but also, other friends and relatives in the area. Extraordinary to see the damage to NYC. Unreal.
My brother lives in Manhattan, and I’ve been quite worried about him because he lives on the 39th floor of a modern tower block ( they kept showing that crane picture on the news over here). We spoke last night & for the first time in months he’s done a proper grocery shop! He’s tucked up indoors like it’s Christmas.
Good that he’s all tucked in safely, That’s Not My Age. (I imagine you’ll be checking with him today as well.)
BTW – I loved your post! (Still can’t comment until you open Name/URL.) Love your blog!
Sending good energy to you and your sons…
Soit courageuse…
Bisous,
H.
We and our children live in the D.C., Philly, and Boston areas. All is well. It seems the worst part of the storm was coastal.
I do know why you might fear that feeling of immortality we have when we are young. When I was 19, I drove from Philly to Boston in a hurricane. All along the way, I listened to radio reports of flooding and interstate highways closing. In spite of myself, I made it to my destination safely. What was I thinking?
To celebrate the end of Hurricane Sandy, we (probably just me since my husband is still recovering from surgery) are going into the city tomorrow night to have Indian food with friends.
Glad to hear your boys made it through the storm okay.