Sheila Sims Iding
With the worst ice storm that I have ever experienced in my 59 years, I am not so old that I cannot learn a thing or two from an ice storm that spanned 3 days…or more. During this ice storm I have learned the following:
When an ice storm forces your favorite day of school to be canceled, you don’t feel that “snow day” joy. (Neither do many of the kids.)
When the power goes out you immediately feel powerless.
When they say it may be out for several days…you feel even more powerless…and somewhat hopeless.
When you sit in your family room and look at an unlit tree and unlit mantel, you remember how much you loved looking Christmas lights. You never took it for granted. You are just reminded that you didn’t.
When you walk outside the next morning there is a masterpiece about ice artistry. I thought God was showing off with sparkly snow…geez…that is nothing compared to decorating with ice.
That of all the pictures of all the beautiful ice (yes…I said beautiful), the most beautiful of all is the single blade of grass. Green grass under ice symbolizes perseverance in the purest form.
That candles may cast a warm glow but when you have no lights, camp lanterns are your best friend. (Thank you, Adam.)
That when you are used to days with first graders silence can be too deafening.
That you shouldn’t have gotten rid of that boom box cd/radio that took mega batteries and could cut the silence.
That a trip to Meijers for batteries and firewood is more complete when you buy another CD/radio that takes mega batteries. (You convince your husband it’s for weather updates but really it’s for Christmas music.)
That tuning in a FM station from Grand Rapids takes a steady hand to get…the…signal…just…right. (And brings back teenage memories of doing the same for Casey Kasem’s countdown.)
That reading a magazine in a power outage is just that. Not reading a magazine and watching the Spartans on TV and playing a fb game. It’s just reading a magazine. I kind of liked it.
That I will probably never buy 14 steaks as a Christmas Gift from Omaha Steaks again. That’s a lot of money thawing on my back deck. Oh…and the lobster tails too. Yikes! That’s a lot of money. Gift cards next year.
That no matter how many hours…or even days…it’s been…you still turn on the light switch when you walk in the bathroom…and the laundry room…and the upstairs hallway. (And…the garage!) And you still feel stupid each time you do.
That when the house gets cold and colder you worry about your pets like they are your kids…because they kind of are.
That a sectional couch is big enough for 3 adults, two pets, several pillows and even more blankets. And a “sleep over” together is fun no matter how old you are.
That when you go outside to take pictures that first morning it seems so pretty until you hear the cracking and crashing of limbs all around your neighborhood. They sound so much like gun shots…it’s scary and eerie.
That a broken limb of an older tree seems sadder than other limbs and that the bent over branches of a weakened birch tree seems the saddest of all. Maybe because they are your favorite tree or maybe because you fear they won’t recover. Maybe both.
That throwing away bags of food from the refrigerator is sickening…on many levels.
That empathy for homeless people and stray pets reaches new heights of sensitivity…and sympathy.
That Bud Kouts is a good place to go sit, have dinner and refuel your computers and phones. And that Pat’s home away from home became ours on Sunday night.
A new appreciation for daylight hours. You start to countdown how much daylight is left to do things more easily than with a lantern.
When you wake up in the dark it’s humbling to watch daylight sneak across your deck. It comes slower than you thought and makes you vulnerable to nature’s clock.
That the comforting connection of skype half way around the world to China is not so comforting when it is lost. He lost the “family” he had there but he was not alone because skype connected him to family here…until it didn’t.
That when one carbon monoxide alarm goes off you change the battery and that six hours later when they both go off, you call Consumers Energy.
That when the smoke coming out of your chimney fills your yard, and the UPS man is convinced something is burning, you call the fire department.
That the Consumer Energy man (who also lost power) is comforting even though 18 is not a comforting number to me. (I like zero better.)
That the UPS people are the nicest ever and, on one of his busiest days, he proved that again when he took time to check the chimney and encouraged a call to 911.
That probably 3 fire trucks, one ambulance and two “official” cars may be a bit much for a suspected chimney fire. (I know…safety in numbers.) And that those “pretend” fire logs are not always the best thing for fires or chimneys.
That putting 3 pets in a truck can be done in under 4 minutes. (Thank you, Adam.)
That, when terrified, Oscar’s back claws can tear into a brand new shirt. (Sorry, Adam.)
That realizing some people are going for radiation treatments in the midst of a power outage makes having to go out for morning coffee not so bad. I'm guessing they would change places with you in the flicker of a light. Perspective is everything...even in the dark. Especially in the dark.
That trying to find a hotel room can feel like "no room at the inn" and when you do find one it feels safe and sheltering...but it's not home. (But a good place to reflect and write a blog.)
That you gain a greater appreciation for everything. For all the things we take for granted or that come so easily we forget to appreciate them: heat, warm shower, coffee, toast, electric blanket (electric anything), espn and sportscenter, checking info online, a charged phone, a working light switch, a light in the morning…and a light at night…and power on at your house.
We still don’t have power yet at our house but I do have a greater appreciation of power and being powerless and the many lessons I learned from an ice storm.