It’s the day after Sandy. The skies are still gray and the rain is still falling, but the winds have quieted to an occasional whisper.
Despite the wind’s cacophonous roars for the past 24 hours, through the storm shine of the afternoon yesterday and into the darkness of the night, our lights stayed on, glowing defiantly in the groaning dark.
What is it about the light – even a single shining bulb – that holds back the worst of fear? If you have a light, it’s always easier to believe that everything will be alright.
And, for us, it was alright. We stayed safe and warm and dry through the storm. Even Tink, who has a fear of storms that borders on panic, stayed calm. We were all tucked into the basement with light and television and each other. With the shades down, Tink couldn’t see the trees bend their crowns to the ground in homage to the hurricane. In the basement, she could barely hear Sandy’s howls and growls. She stayed calm, and she slept. We all did.
We were lucky, so very lucky. We were safe, and we had light, for which I am immeasurably grateful.