I'm back after nearly two weeks of dealing with Hurricane Ike. Our electricity returned after 11 days. How did and do people ever live without air conditioning in a climate like this? We shared our home with an evacuee family of four and two cats whose house was in the storm surge zone. We lost power, some tree limbs and an avocado tree; they lost almost everything. They saved their art and their clothes have been washed, but their house will need to be rebuilt from the ground up. Another set of friends had not one, not two, but three trees smash their roof and garage. We lost power and vegetation.
Even the worst tragedy brings amazing gifts. Somehow it brings out the best in people. Our neighborhood is in a mostly gentrified and historic urban area of Houston. People keep to themselves a lot. But, I think most of us secretly long to talk to our neighbors and to enjoy more community, whether through a spontaneous project of clearing storm drains or looking after each other's children. This week showed me that as soon as people see a specific way of being useful to people in trouble they are ready and willing to act on it. We just rarely show or voice our needs. The number of people who jumped in to help our friends was so inspiring! The number of conversations I had with neighbors was gratifying.
As always, my son's perspective was very informative and anchoring. He called our increased housing density his "storm party." He kept asking when the storm was coming (because he slept through it). And, on our morning "neighbor walk" yesterday he collected the bowl of "treasures" depicted here. To me these items reflect the loss of our neighbor's pecan tree, and the fact that the winds blew so hard not a single acorn remains on any of the dozens of live oak trees on our block. To him they are just treasures from the neighborhood. We stopped for a tea party on a neighbor's stoop. The rocks stood in for muffins, and the acorns for tea cups. Ahh. Not once did he complain because he was too hot during the power outage or that there were too many mosquitoes. He cried hard when the cats left yesterday and asks daily about where his friends went. These will be his memories of Hurricane Ike at age 28 months. Treasures.
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