First I have to qualify this: I have never been an organized, well-planned person, and I particularly was not that way in my younger years. So I have no experience with sitting down with a significant other and planning to have a baby. Just didn't happen that way in my universe.
It occurred to me this evening that a hurricane event like we had today with Irene, is a little bit akin to a pregnancy scare. I trip lightly through life, la-de-da, doing whatever and suddenly, on the horizon, is a little bitty cloud. A tiny question. Just a blip on the radar.
Days go by and it becomes more insistent. A tropical storm? An oooops pregnancy?
As more days go by, it's time to pay enough attention to start considering the possible shift in reality. A little preparation, at least mentally. OK. Put some things in a box. Buy some batteries. Stock up on water. Look at a possible Plan B (or C or D).
If I really were pregnant (circa 1974) do I drop out of school? Quit my job? Shift career plans?
If a hurricane really comes are we ready? Enough food? What about the animals? What about the stuff on the porch? Should we just pack up the pets and head for the hills?
In both cases, the anticipation is the killer. Not knowing what's going to happen. Having to wait and see. I can hardly stand waiting till the end of a movie to find out who done it. Suspense is not my friend.
Today, the hurricane was more or less a non-event where I live. Wind enough to make it wild and interesting without knocking over trees or tearing off roofs. Rain enough to water everything well and sluice down the window panes, but not enough to pool in the yard or flood our street. Anyway, we live on a hill. We stayed inside, watched movies, checked in with the news, admired Mother Nature making herself known outside the patio door. No need to break out the hurricane box. No loss of power. Just a blowy, rainy day.
And finally this evening, a little irrational disappointment. I was all ready! I watched the videos of assorted NC hurricanes of note, and remembered the stifling, humid days after Fran in '96 --- trees down everywhere you looked, the loss of power for over a week, the interruption of life that seemed to take a long time to get over. I was ready, in case it happened again. I didn't really WANT it to ----- or did I?
And that's how it would be back in the "Oh my god what if I'm pregnant?" days ---- relief, then a little disappointment. I already had Plan B in my head. It might not be what I wanted, but... wouldn't it be kind of fun? Surprising? Different?
I'm not a risk taker. I'm actually pretty risk-averse. But sometimes a little shake-up is called for, a little something to test the mettle, call out some hidden strengths, even make life uncomfortable for awhile, in order to relish sunny days all the more.
I go to bed tonight grateful that this storm was no worse than it was, concerned for the people who did suffer losses, and yes, a little let down. But that's ok. There's always something more on the horizon.
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