Bumpy Ride

"Looks like we're in for a bumpy ride," Dave used to say every time the forecast put the winds in excess of fifty mph.  Back in 1986, Dave had the F/V Richard & Arnold on his mooring because hurricane warnings had been posted. Many of the boats in our Provincetown fishing fleet were  rafted together on the Coast Guard's moorings out in the cove.  Dave planned on staying on board, tied to the mooring, with the engine on, jogging into it. He said it was our livelihood and he would do everything he could to keep it safe.  The meteorologists named that storm Bob, with hurricane winds reaching over eighty mph. Dave called me on the CB radio and told me he couldn't leave the wheelhouse, couldn't see through the heavy rains. He said for me not to worry, (as if I wouldn't anyway), he would keep the engine on, he was safe. He said we had the best mooring in the harbor. I prayed. It just so happens that we have a son with the same name. While Dave was keeping the boat afloat, hoping the mooring would hold, I was home with the our sons, Jackson and Bob, and my sister Susan. The winds were howling. The four of us were playing Monopoly on the floor of the living room when the power went out. I gathered up lanterns, candles and flashlight, and checked our water supply. A sudden knocking on the front door caused us all to jump.  Thinking it might be someone in need of help, we hustled to open the door. It was the UPS guy with a box in his hand. I berated him for being out in a hurricane. We offered him hospitality, but he said he had packages to deliver, it was safe, and he was doing fine. He gave us our surprise and we wished him well. We were so excited to open the package that had been delivered in the middle of a hurricane. It was a gift from Dave's cousin, Angel who lives in Florida. She was thanking us for having the family out on the boat the previous month, while they were visiting. The present was an electric tea kettle. The four of us sat on the living room floor, in candlelight and admired the kettle that we could not use.  We huddled under blankets and pillows for the rest of the day. Around four o'clock that afternoon we heard and felt a thunderous noise. I kept telling everyone to stay away from the windows, but of coarse the boys had to know what that horrible crash was. Everyone peered into an eery green atmosphere to see our massive seventy-five foot Aspen tree with a twelve foot circumference, lying on its side, across our front yard. The top of the tree was well into the neighbors front yard. It had landed so that no wires, houses, cars, or persons were injured. We had so much to be thankful for.
After twenty-four hours, an exhausted Dave made his way back to his family who were more worried about him then about themselves. After all, the tree had missed us, the UPS guy said everything was fine out there and we had a new kettle. A bit of yard work was waiting for Captain Dave, but that could wait until the sun came out. We still have two of those huge trees in our front yard, and they continue to grow and thrive, and yet every time the wind picks up above fifty knots, I shudder.  Stay safe, warm and dry, my friends.  Fair winds

A whisper of hope

You might think that this new way of living, brought on by such a tiny thing, a Corid virus,  would be good for a writer. Chained to the keyboard with nothing else to do. Like everyone else out there, I am having difficulty concentrating. I get depressed, I miss seeing family and friends, I worry about loved ones in New York,  I pray for those with the virus, and for the families of those who have died. This thing that is plaguing us is something so new we have yet to understand the ramifications. How do you fight something so small it can only be seen with a microscope. The idea that we can be brought to a standstill by this killer virus, is unimaginable. It's like reading a sci-fi novel, only now we're living it.
I've always like the way bees live, with jobs, family, work, and order. We have to keep living like bees, only in some new, yet to be defined way.
I was used to the old ways, being a grandmother gives one a longer perspective.  I had a sort of routine, writing, housework, three o'clock pick up of grandkids from school, shopping at the local grocery store, coming and going as needed. I'm now separated from it all. I am alone.
I spend more time binge / binging, (that terrible habit that I used to keep at a minimum,) now it absorbs me. I've wizzed through the English mysteries. Then it was on to Irish mystery, Canadain TV series. I have to admit Australian TV is a gas. I'm now working my way through New Zealand and Brokenwood murder mysteries. I've seen movies by the dozens. Loved, loved, loved The Green Book and Rocketman, wonderful films. I've watched series that I'd never heard of before. I'm either searching for the new norm or reminiscing about the way we used to live.
Dave always called me Pollyanna because I always saw the brighter side of everything, the glass half full. I remain positive, even in the face of this horrible, terrible crisis. The new normal is just around the corner, another new normal in a lifetime of new things, people, places. We all know that the only constant is change. I am hopeful that this will provide us with new opportunities, new ways of doing things, new ways of staying safe. We must remain hopeful. I can honestly say I hate what is happening, the disruption of civilization, like an earthquake that disassembles structure. In the aftermath we come together and help each other to rebuild. Life is precious, let's celebrate it. We need to remember that love is with us always, even when family and friends are not. We will get through this alone and together.  Fair winds dear friends.