Waiting for Matthew

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Hurricane Matthew: October 5, 2016


A hurricane doesn’t look too ominous from a satellite; just a wispy, white circular pattern floating silently on the blue waters. 

But, if you get up close and personal with a hurricane, it’s a whole different story. We know the kind of devastation these tropical storms can bring to anyone and anything unfortunate enough to be in its path.

And in Matthew’s path are millions of people, including my son, his wife, and my daughter. Of course, they’ve taken the necessary precautions. My son and daughter-in-law are residents of Cocoa Beach and were evacuated yesterday. Living on barrier islands prompted them to move everything from their first floor to the second floor. They’re waiting out the storm near Orlando with their three cats in a pet-friendly hotel, worried that they won’t have a home to return to. 

 

My daughter was invited to ride out the storm at a coworker’s house. At first she wanted to stay at her studio apartment and I initially agreed. However, as the reports on the impending storm grew increasingly more serious, I advised her to go to her friend’s house. Strength and safety in numbers; I didn’t want her to be alone. When I spoke with her earlier this evening, she was grateful not to be alone.

We make so many choices, large and small, inside of a single day. Our goal is to maintain control over the circumstances of our lives. Do we wear a seatbelt, take the vitamins, accept that job offer? Whether to be healthy and make “safe” decisions that will have a positive impact on our lives. Or, whether to engage in risky behavior that could have detrimental effects. 

At first glance it appears that we have a lot of control. And yet, there’s much that we can’t control or predict. 

Right now I want desperately to be with my family in Florida. I want to assure my frightened daughter that she is safe and will be okay. I want to allay my son’s fears about his home and help him feel hopeful that maybe the damage won’t be as bad as he’s expecting. I want to make this hurricane turn back out to sea, so it can’t hurt anymore people or cause more destruction.

While I have no control over any of this, I can control how I deal with it and how I help my loved ones deal with it. As long as they are safe, we’ll manage the rest together. 


 

Christmas…Present

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When you’re born and raised in the Northeastern United States, December usually means snow, ice, and wind, in no particular order. I knew moving to Florida would mean a much warmer Christmas, something I was looking forward to. After complaining for years about the long, cold winters, I would finally be able to leave the house without three layers of clothing, boots, hat, and gloves.

The last couple of winters have been particularly brutal with heavy snowfall and very cold temperatures. I lived in an apartment with no garage and spent quality time digging my car out from under a lot of snow and scraping ice off the windows. It required an extra thirty minutes in the morning and I was cold, tired and wet when I got to work. I dreamed of living far enough south to not have to deal with this issue anymore. I dreamed of Christmas lights strung through palm trees.

So, imagine my surprise (and mild annoyance) when I read the weather forecast for my home state of Pennsylvania predicting temperatures in the 60s for Christmas week. That’s unheard of and I’m thinking to myself, “Sure, I finally make the move to warmer weather and warmer weather makes the move to PA.”

Some folks back home are actually whining about not having a white Christmas and that it feels more like Easter weather. Others I’ve spoken with are quite pleased that Old Man Winter hasn’t found them yet.

I guess this means I’ll have to hold off on sending those postcards I bought: the ones that are split in half with the left half picturing a blizzard and saying “You,” while the right half shows a tropical sunset and says “Me.”

I have to admit though, with Christmas only a week away, I’m feeling a little homesick for home…and snow.