It’s not pool weather today. But we’re not having to pour water out of a bucket into the toilet to flush it. We’re not huddled in the dark, binge eating fruit-roll ups for comfort as winds howl all around us. Or wading around in galoshes, trying to salvage parts of our roof. We’re sitting around the table like normal, having a civilised cup of hot coffee, thanking our lucky stars that Dorian decided to join so many Floridians during the summer months and head up north and that we didn’t even run out of hazelnut coffee creamer.
There are twigs and leaves and small branches strewn all over the grass and on the sidewalks, but no uprooted trees, no gators. A few thousand people in Brevard county did have power outages last night, but not us. I know it sounds awful, but I’m a little disappointed.
It turned out to be, for us, a false pregnancy. We’d gone through morning sickness, put on pounds, felt the baby kicking, but in the end, were sent home by the doctor who said ‘it’s nothing’. I know, I know – having a baby is an 11 on the 1 to 10 scale of joy and getting destroyed by a major hurricane is a minus 35, but still... it had already been christened and we’d made all those plans for it. We hadn’t gone so far as to start a college savings plan, but we put up storm shutters, put out sandbags, stocked up on beans instead of heading to the beach, and spent most or waking hours glued to the Weather Channel. Shouldn’t we at least get a really terrible thunderstorm out of the deal?
Looking back, you’d think that the last week of enforced enclosure was just what my family really needed. The weather was bad even if it wasn’t catastrophic, the stores were boarded up and closed, we couldn’t drive the car because we needed to save the gas in case we needed to escape to Pensacola – all of those conditions created the perfect storm for quality family time. The kids see my parents only once a year, and usually, that limited time is impinged upon by beach outings, taco procurement missions, middle of the night Walmart runs (because it’s open 24/7!) and pool obligations. Fun stuff. Florida stuff. But this time, we were house-bound in close quarters, and even so, we still didn’t get in those hours of hearing the same old stories again and arguing over Monopoly. I guess there’s something about impending disaster that kind of spoils the mood.
The thing is, people are seldom able to just kick back and enjoy themselves when they are busy putting their insurance papers and treasured photos in the back of the car so they can flee disaster. And not everyone is at their personal best to just relax and enjoy a good hurricane – both of my sons are coughing, sneezing and otherwise feeling lousy, and they need to keep their distance and germs from their grandparents. I’ve been swallowing pain meds and knocking back Cokes to keep migraines at bay, and my dad is 87 and I guess that’s all I need to say about that. My mom, a good bit his junior, is coping the best out of all of us, although I think seeing empty Coke cans and wadded up tissues laying around everywhere in her usually immaculate house is as bad for her blood pressure as anything Dorian could dish out.
Things will all be back to normal soon enough, and we’ll be missing each other from afar and wishing we had more time together. I miss them and being back home in the United States already. Although Dorian refused to budge for days and waiting for our turn to be mercilessly pummelled by it seemed endless, our time here has gone by all too quickly. Today will be filled with some down time that we can actually enjoy, apart from keeping an eye on the tornado watches – that’ll help us transition from following a category 5 hurricane back to just checking if our flight’s delayed.
On Friday, we’ll be flying north like Dorian, only at a much quicker speed, to Raleigh, North Carolina to enjoy a last soggy weekend with my daughter - a senior at North Carolina State - before we head back home. She’s already prepared for what’s left of the hurricane and for our storming into her small apartment – she’s got non-perishable provisions and extra Kleenex. Later this afternoon, I’ll unpack the car trunk and tomorrow, reluctantly, I’ll pack my bags. I’ll be tossing in some unusual mementos. I wonder if my pet-sitter and my office colleagues will appreciate those cans of beans?
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Local journalist and ARA radio show host Wendy Winn sent in this personal account of preparing for Hurricane Dorian - she and her sons picked a rather inopportune time to visit her parents in Melbourne, Florida.
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Holiday hurricane - part one: I’ll have the hurricane light please, beans on the side, hold the snakes
Holiday hurricane - part two: Overdue and about to deliver - let’s get this Dorian thing over!
