Tuesday, July 12, 2011
SOL: Just Passing Through
The sun was slowly rising in the east, peering through our back windows. Light and bright, more and more as each minute passed. Before my husband left for work Monday morning, he warned me. He said they were coming.
"I know. I know." Shaking my head. Pretending that I heard him.
"Good morning, sunshines!" I whisper to my daughters in delight. "Let's have breakfast!"
As we enjoyed our bananas and cereal, the clouds moved in. Blue skies and sunshine were pushed out of sight and replaced with gray, dark clouds that rolled in quickly.
"Wow. Where did our beautiful sunshine go girls?" The winds picked up. The trees were limboing to see who could sway closest to the ground. The rain pelted the ground. A flash of light lit up the kitchen. The tears of fear began to fall.
I swooped down and grabbed both of my girls. Holding on tight, we scampered down the stairs into the dark, dark basement. Their cries became louder and louder unsure of what was happening.
We sat on a rug huddled together with a windup radio, a cell phone, and a flash light. I calmly talked to the girls telling them what was happening. My soothing voice relaxed them for the moment. The phone rang.
"Dada! Dada!" The girls shouted out. Any time a phone rings, they think it is Dada.
"We are okay. We made it to the basement. The power is out. I think a branch fell on the power lines."
"I told you they were coming. I'm glad you went to the basement too. I had to pull over on the side of the road. There are trees and branches littering the streets." My husband replied. "I'm coming home."
Our knight in shining armor arrived in time to start up the generator and save our food. We learned to live without the rest: lights, computers, TVs, fans, air conditioning.
It was actually quite an enjoyable day. Peace and quiet. We didn't miss the constant noise and disruptions of the phone or TV. But, we were happy to hear the click of the power after 13 hours without it on a hot, humid day in July.