On Knowing Gratitude

As I write this, I am sitting in front my fireplace, three layers clothes on and a comforter around my shoulders. There has been no power in my house for the last 26 hours due to a storm that has blasted the northeast all day yesterday and this morning, an unprecedented storm of wind and rain. A Bomb Cyclone, Bombogensis. That’s the word they’re using now. Historic flooding, hurricane-force winds. Our mayor announced that Quincy – which I understand is getting quite a bit of media attention including the Weather Channel – hasn’t seen anything like this since the Blizzard of ’78. Go us!

This morning, I attempted to leave my neighborhood but quickly had to abandon the idea. The high tides had been magnified by a full moon yesterday and didn’t exit, as they normally do. Marshes behind my and my neighbor’s yards were unlike anything I’d ever seen. Not just the usual look -- plumes of phragmites and and weeds, waving and rustling above pockets of water – but had filled up and became a flowing river, movement pushed by wind. The main road out of my peninsula neighborhood was cut off. I tried the other back-road way, only to find that the low-lying section of road had gushing water pouring over what had been street. Even my sturdy Honda CRV would have been swamped. I turned back.  We are an island. 

I write often about gratitude. You may be wondering: why now?

As I write this, I am sitting in front of the fireplace, as I said, many layers of clothes & comforter and now, in fact, I have a dog on my lap. Success, they said, is where luck meets preparation.  This morning, I saw houses that were islands, surrounded by water. I can’t begin to even guess how much damage is out there. But, my house is dry. Through some miracle of placement, just high enough above the worst of it, I dodged it. I am in the flood plain but somehow, missed it.

And I was ready to do what I could. A stash of wood, C batteries for the radio, flashlights and candles out.

SO my gratitude is for all of it. I am grateful that my basement is dry and that I know how to keep a good fire going.

The other piece which is always, always in my consciousness, is how many people in the world live so meagerly *all the time*, without hope of improvement, ever. SO many, torn by war and poverty, right now, in situations far more dire and terrifying than mine. Me? I have first-world problems. Dear God. When news of Syria comes on, I force myself to listen to ever detail, NOT turn it off because that is the definition of privilege. I sit in my car to charge my cell phone? That is NOT a problem; that’s a luxury.

When the power returns, as it surely will, it will feel luxurious. I will wash in hot water. I will take the dog for a walk, not feeling like I must stay to feed the fire. I will do laundry and bake bread in my oven. I will post this because the wi-fi will be back.

Yes, I am a lucky, lucky sister, and I know it.

Your encore for the day? Count your blessings. Do it.

Be grateful.

Peace.