Hundreds of thousands of us living in Connecticut this past week can commiserate with one another about how difficult several days on end without electricity can be. Sleeping in a home with inside temperatures below 50 degrees and lugging water for flushing is not for the faint of heart!
I experienced just such a week myself. Although we did not initially lose power as a result of "Storm Alfred" which brought an extremely heavy October snow, we lost our power after the fact, presumably as a result of a transformer blowing out perhaps as someone else celebrated the return of electricity; their gain, my loss. Those elusive little currents just avoided my street like the plague for the next five days.
Night five had me at my breaking point for sleeping in a frigid bedroom in sweat shirts and pants, heavy socks, and ten pounds of blankets, and I simply refused to put up with the uncivilized conditions for a fifth night. And let's not even think about the smoke detectors that one by one starting chirping when the batteries decided that they too had had enough. Ah, but at 7:30 p.m. Sunday as I was out for the evening came the text message from my sister, who lives five doors down the street, that I'd long awaited: our power had come back on. A massive lottery win wouldn't have made me happier! But on the ride back home, my sister called, and I could tell by her tone that she was about to deflate my soaring mood. It seems that most of the homes on our street had power restored...but not mine.
At my sister's urging, and it did not take much convincing, believe me, my husband and I decided to spend the night at her home. She still has a beautiful wing of her home, once my mother's, more recently my son's, where my son Justin and his new wife Tory still spend weekends when they return from their home in another state.
Aside from the warm comfort and satisfaction of light coming on upon throwing a switch, I embraced my temporary surroundings with a new interest I hadn't expected. I marveled at what for the past several years had been a male-dominated environment as it now blossoms with feminine touches proving that a woman has nested here with her mate. Strewn among the race car photos, racing newspapers, and men's cologne now emerge hair clips, bracelets, and ballerinas. When I glanced at the toothbrush holder and saw the two toothbrushes next to one another and so perfectly entwined together at the bottom, it proved without a doubt that this space now belonged to a couple instead of a single male. I experienced an unexpected contentment from the toothbrushes as they were for me proof positive of a bond between a husband and a wife. Such a simple little everyday detail, but evidencing a profound intimacy that exists in their relationship. My "little boy" is where I have always hoped he would eventually arrive, in a marriage bond with the woman he loves, and she equally loving him back.
To be there for one another in every way, shape, and form, through whatever life tosses their way, electricity or no electricity, to entwine his toothbrush with hers, that is what I pray for this amazing couple every blessed day of their lives.
I experienced just such a week myself. Although we did not initially lose power as a result of "Storm Alfred" which brought an extremely heavy October snow, we lost our power after the fact, presumably as a result of a transformer blowing out perhaps as someone else celebrated the return of electricity; their gain, my loss. Those elusive little currents just avoided my street like the plague for the next five days.
Night five had me at my breaking point for sleeping in a frigid bedroom in sweat shirts and pants, heavy socks, and ten pounds of blankets, and I simply refused to put up with the uncivilized conditions for a fifth night. And let's not even think about the smoke detectors that one by one starting chirping when the batteries decided that they too had had enough. Ah, but at 7:30 p.m. Sunday as I was out for the evening came the text message from my sister, who lives five doors down the street, that I'd long awaited: our power had come back on. A massive lottery win wouldn't have made me happier! But on the ride back home, my sister called, and I could tell by her tone that she was about to deflate my soaring mood. It seems that most of the homes on our street had power restored...but not mine.
At my sister's urging, and it did not take much convincing, believe me, my husband and I decided to spend the night at her home. She still has a beautiful wing of her home, once my mother's, more recently my son's, where my son Justin and his new wife Tory still spend weekends when they return from their home in another state.
Aside from the warm comfort and satisfaction of light coming on upon throwing a switch, I embraced my temporary surroundings with a new interest I hadn't expected. I marveled at what for the past several years had been a male-dominated environment as it now blossoms with feminine touches proving that a woman has nested here with her mate. Strewn among the race car photos, racing newspapers, and men's cologne now emerge hair clips, bracelets, and ballerinas. When I glanced at the toothbrush holder and saw the two toothbrushes next to one another and so perfectly entwined together at the bottom, it proved without a doubt that this space now belonged to a couple instead of a single male. I experienced an unexpected contentment from the toothbrushes as they were for me proof positive of a bond between a husband and a wife. Such a simple little everyday detail, but evidencing a profound intimacy that exists in their relationship. My "little boy" is where I have always hoped he would eventually arrive, in a marriage bond with the woman he loves, and she equally loving him back.
To be there for one another in every way, shape, and form, through whatever life tosses their way, electricity or no electricity, to entwine his toothbrush with hers, that is what I pray for this amazing couple every blessed day of their lives.
