"And Osiris, and the gods of the Nile gathered up a big storm, to blow a hurricane, to scatter us away..."

The big news on the East Coast this week is the weather.  Earthquake, Hurricane Irene, tornado watch...yeah, we're not getting off easy!  After work this morning, L and I have been sitting in front of the TV all day.  The 2nd tornado update was too much, so we're just wide awake, following news up to the minute online, and playing video games.

This week of natural disasters has been much more peaceful.  When we used to have things like power outages or threat of horrible weather, I always used to worry about Mom.  What if there was a true emergency and an ambulance couldn't make it?  I just realized today on the FEMA website that there are all these disaster guides for mobile and immobile people.  Now, even thought it doesn't matter anymore, I feel horrible for not having a backup plan in place for Mom when she was alive.  I never thought about hurricanes or tornadoes because they are so infrequent in this area.  We don't live near water, and we don't have a basement, so we're pretty lucky.  In regards to tornadoes, I figured I would just push her bed about 5 feet closer to the middle of the house and jump on top of her with the foldout bed mattress.  In regards to possible fire, I figured my adrenaline would be through the roof, and that I would push her bed right out the damn front door, no matter how much I'd end up tearing off the side wall.  But I never thought about possible evacuation...dear god, can you imagine?

I remember being a little girl and living in the second floor of our tiny duplex.  Mom sprung right into action when there was a bad storm.  My father was usually at work, so it was just the two of us.  She would grab me and hold me as we sat with our backs against the front door.  It was the midpoint of the house so we were as far away from windows as possible and against a sturdy door.  Getting to the basement would have been too risky, though we had a neighbor across the street whose house was struck by lightning.  Sometimes I was scared, sometimes I thought it was fun.  No matter what, she kept holding me, talking with me about it, made me laugh, and just gave me the support we needed to get through the hour or so on the floor.  She was just such a wonderful mother, and I don't think I fully appreciated that as a child.  Then again, who really does until they get older?

I know I shouldn't beat myself up over this.  I should just remember how compassionate and loving she was with me and apply that to any future child we have.

Still, I don't mind having an excuse to hunker down with pizza, donuts, Mario, and movies.  When else do we almost have permission to be lazy bums?