So The Storm Is Over

At least rounds one and two.

Hopefully it was a one/two punch and we’re done with nature’s bullying ways.

But as always there are certainly some silver linings to be found in certain storm clouds.  This was no exception.

One friend sent out notice on Facebook that a local store that has lost it’s power is going to cook up all of it’s meats for the community instead of just letting it go bad.  Who knows, maybe this will be the start of a great, annual,  community gathering.  And it will certainly instill some good will in  folks who maybe by-pass this little store for a bigger chain.

As I said before people who have electric and have generators are snaking heavy duty extension cords to neighbors who have no power.  Helping keep foods safe and maybe run a fan or two.

I’ve had friends and relatives (thank you!) send me texts and phone calls (unfortunately my phone was out) extending their homes and their services.

Friends dropped by to check on us.  Bringing us food and good will.

People who are walking the neighborhoods are asking each other questions.  Sharing hard to get information with those who are essentially cut off from the news at large, and local.  There seems to be a kinder, gentler side of community being shown and shared.

I work in a protective services and social services field.  People who themselves are without power and some with damages show up to work to do what they can.  Because they knew others wouldn’t know where to go for help.  Or how to get help.

One thing we talked about over the weekend as we sat in the evenings, on porches with neighbors and friends, was the world at large.  On the one hand the world seems smaller and for some reason much more negative than what we remember from our childhoods.  Everything bad, nasty and horrifying spreads around the globe at lightening speed.  Making the world seem like it is chock full of the worst of humanity.  Hopefully the goodness will spread as quickly and thoroughly.

I think for every community that is hit with something as debilitating as this (or worse) there is an awakening.   An eye opening moment where we remember who and what we are.  We are people who depend on one another.  We are created this way, to not only be the one’s extending help… but we are also the one’s who need to accept help.  Humans were not created to be isolated and independent.  We are designed for socialization.   We are designed to do for others.  And to have others do for us.  Our first dependence is on our family.  And this soon expands to include our communities.  Our communities used to be somewhat smaller.    Now we seem to sometimes lose the sense of community (I did) with the largeness of the world.  Where sixty miles would have once been a multiple day trek for us, we can now skim across sixty miles in an hour (or less in some modes of transport).  Where once our community was confined to what we could travel by human foot or horse trot, we now make connections across the world.   Relationships as dear as marriage are now, often, lived “long distance” because of the ease of going hither and yon in the flash of a jet’s roar.

Then suddenly…our world is our neighborhood again.  Small.  Intimate.  Important.

For the last three days we have been dependent on our neighbors for what they could extend to us.  In the form of an extension cord and general kindness.  We in turn assisted with what ever manual tasks we could assist.  Helping our elderly neighbor pick up scattered debris and yard ornaments and parts of houses.  We promised the children of elderly neighbors who refused to leave to go some place safer that we would watch them.  Sure enough I had to go several times to stand close to 80 pound neighbor “Dot” who insisted on coming outside in gale winds.   Oh she is a stubborn one!  She joked that if the wind took her she would roll at eighty miles an hour down the road.  I joked back that I couldn’t run that fast to catch her.  And reminded her if I didn’t catch her-her daughter would kill me.   She finally went back in the front door.  Only to go back out the back door when she thought I wasn’t looking.

The storms are over -I hope-though they say there may be more.   I’m a little fearful of the storms.   But… It’s kind of nice -basking in all of this humanity and kindness.

As we became unconnected from the world at large we seemed to be much more connected to our community.

Storm be damned.  I’ll be damned.   Our world is good.  I think I see the silver.