A week ago Tuesday was a warm one and I was looking forward to running that new air conditioner at bedtime because at some point I needed to be put on ice. About 8:30 I decided to run the window fan for a while first, and left it running as I went down to watch a movie with the hubby.
This requires my special skills with the remotes. I use the cable remote to turn on the television, the television remote to switch sources, and the Roku remote to call up a movie. This baffles the old man and sometimes I wonder if it’s my presence, or my skills, that he really wants.
He took his time picking a movie and then we settled in. A storm was on the horizon. The television said so, and the distant grumble in the air made us believers. Then the power flickered. It flickered again. I knew we were about to lose power and for reasons I may never understand I just sat there and waited for it to actually happen.
When it did, I couldn’t believe how totally black the house was. I needed a flashlight. Why didn’t I grab one at the first flicker? How was I going to make my way past a footstool that was here somewhere and doorways that were surely going to hurt if my inner GPS was off? Recalculating wasn’t going to cut it if I knocked myself out cold.
Lightning flashed and I spotted my iPad. Aha! I opened it and enough light bled out to get me to the kitchen drawer that held my emergency flashlight. It’s quite small. It’s about the size of my key fob but it’s better than a stick in the eye.
I was drawn to the sunroom with all the windows and watched with awe and wonder as the still distant lightning, time and time again, lit up my backyard as if it were dawn. The soft rumble of thunder was soothing to the mind, and the fireflies flickered about, looking like bits of broken off lightning bolts. I found myself grateful for the disruption of the everyday so that I could marvel at nature doing its storm dance.
Then the rain started and it was fierce. I remembered that the bathroom window was open upstairs and carefully made my way to it. Oh my! Water was everywhere and anything within four feet of the window needed sopping up. My tiny light did its best to illumine my path but it was time for something bigger.
I made my way to a better flashlight that I take to retreats, and then I went back down to be with the hubby, maybe play cards for lack of anything else to do when there is no power.
But he had already found something to do. He was appreciating his recliner, softly snoring to the cadence of the thunder. What was I to do now? It was 10 p.m. — too early for bed — but bed it was going to have to be. Sadly the window fan was not running, and the air conditioner mocked me. My alarm clock was as black as the room. It was going to be a long, miserable night.
I tossed. I turned. I melted. I had no idea what time it was but surely it was close to morning by now. I checked my iPad: 12:30 a.m. Somebody shoot me now!
But somewhere in the night as I lay there tasting Hell, wonderful people were hard at work repairing what was broken and I awoke in the early dawn to my fan blowing and numbers glowing from my alarm clock. My world had been restored, and life was worth living once again.