THOUGHTS ABOUT THE EARTHQUAKE

This was an exercise we did in an EAP class, right after the March 18, 2020 earthquake:

The first earthquake I ever experienced was on March 18, 2020, at about 7:10 a.m. The noise woke me first. I thought I heard thunder rumbling, then my bed shook back and forth like a wave. I was paralyzed by fear. Something fell off my book shelf. My mind tried to grasp what was happening because it woke me out of sleep.

I thought, is this thunder? That's really loud thunder--it's actually shaking my bed. Wait, that rumbling is too long to be thunder. THIS MUST BE AN EARTHQUAKE! I began to pray.

I was scared to death to move, and my mind raced to figure out what I should do. Should I get out of bed? Should I run outside? 

My daughter then texted me a link right after with the news about the earthquake on Fox 13. I had been trying to find something myself on my phone when she texted. I wanted to just go back to sleep, in denial. 

I was in a house fire a few years ago and left my house in my pajamas, and that's all I had to wear for a few days. I didn't want that to happen again, so I cautiously got out of bed to get dressed. 

Since I had just had foot surgery a month before, I hadn't been able to wear a shoe on my right foot. Miraculously, I put on a shoe and it didn't hurt.  

I went into my office and turned on my laptop and logged in for work, just in time for my 8:30 meeting. Time escaped me. It was more than an hour since the earthquake, but it seemed like minutes.

Our county and state, and my company, had just begun a quarantine on March 15 due to the COVID-19 (Corona virus), and then on March 18 we have an earthquake! People were joking about playing apocalypse bingo. It's not funny now. 

My house is still creaking, almost three months later.

IT'S BEEN A WHILE . . .

Gosh, I hadn't realized how long it's been since I've written on this blog. This used to be my only blog. I think here is where I add how I really feel about things, good or bad. I hope there is mostly good here.

I'm retiring on July 1.

I hope that means I'll be able to write more. So many thoughts go through my mind, I wish it was tethered to my blogs.

I think about my kids, my purpose, my friends, my extended family--and my granddaughter, Mila. Since the COVID-19 virus hit the planet, it has stymied my ability to see her, and my children.

The last time we got together as a family was the Sunday before my birthday in March. I had just been on FMLA due to another ankle surgery in February, and my first day back was supposed to be March 15.

Lo, and behold, March 15 was the first day of quarantine. My community is now in a "yellow" zone, meaning we can go places, but need to wear a face mask and stay six feet apart from everyone.

Just last week, we celebrated Tim's birthday. I decided to go. I hadn't gone to Zannah's birthday two weeks before and regretted it. I'm over 60 and have asthma, so am considered a "high risk" person.

While at Zannah's for Tim's birthday, I realized our trip back east in July was not going to happen. Maine is very restricted. You have to stop on the highway and give the authorities your phone number so they can check to make sure you're quarantining for 14 days. Well, we couldn't do that. And we couldn't do anything if we went, except stay in Jamely's house and order door dash for a week. No lighthouses, no beaches, no nothing.

I didn't want to spend the whole 12 days in Pennsylvania--they are restrictive, too--so I decided to wait until we do this big trip all over again next year. The Hill Cumorah Pageant was the impetus of our plans. It was postponed--the very last one--until next year.

I hope and pray we can all be together as a family next year. Please, God, let this pandemic pass.