I asked John if he was scared of all the uncertainty. He smiled and said he is a good friend of the Person in charge of wind and waves. I calmed down a notch, but I am still wishing the trees beside our house were shorter. Or made of rubber.

I notice that the kids are only afraid if we lend them ours. The rain has not actually started as I write this. They look puzzled by me bringing lawn chairs into the house, and obsessing on news videos.

 

The thing I try to hold front and center is the memory of past disasters that actually melted into a new way of life. My mother lost everything in a flood, and she moved in with me. My baby was hospitalized for severe failure to thrive and had a hundred appointments before his first birthday. But if I ask at the Christmas table who wants Benjamin to be part of our family every hand bolts to the sky. He currently is into texting. His siblings vie for his messages, and answer them on the sly even if they are in a meeting with the boss. I was flattened by three kids in diapers, especially as I was using cloth ones. The bathroom smelled pretty bad. I cannot actually think of a silver lining for that one except that it is over.