Getting Back on My Feet

    As I sat back in my favorite spot on the couch with my iPad, ready to stalk Facebook and Twitter yet again, I realized that I had a family to take care of. Wandering around in a self-involved haze is fine for a teenager, college student, even a single woman of a certain age, but decidedly NOT fine for a wife and mother. My mother-in-law had flown back to Florida that morning. My children were bored and restless. And, most importantly, there were grown-up things to be done, and I needed to do them.
      I called FEMA. I managed to get through all the voice prompts without crying, but as soon as the agent picked up and said "This is Vanessa, how may I assist you?", I cried again. Even I was getting annoyed with the tears. Long FEMA story short, yes they can take my information, but no, they probably can't help me. Wonderful.
        My next series of calls were to my renter's insurance company and my car insurance company. Pretty much the same answer from both...too bad, so sad. Apparently, flooding isn't covered in my policies.  I was told, however, that I can get a small refund on my remaining insurance premium for the policy period. Yeah, thanks.
         I called for a rental car. I was told there was nothing in the tri-state area, and I am welcomed to call back after November 8th.  Thank you. Today was November 1st. However, it turns out that it didn't really matter. There was no gas. None. Between the widespread blackouts and the inability for the gas delivery trucks to get into the area for the past several days, gas was at an ultra premium. People were actually sitting in line outside closed gas stations overnight. People waited in line for 8 hours, in the hope of getting a few gallons. Add to this the massive mass transit outages and delays, and I realized that I was not the only one crippled by the storm. The entire city, in fact the entire tri-state area, was one halted mess.
    I continued to watch the news non-stop. I played Words With Friends with people I have never met. I decided we had to get rid of our cars, because leaving them outside the house useless was beyond painful. They were not fancy. They were not new. They were mine. Bought and paid for and reliable, once upon a time.
      My husband did his best to clean them out. He got rid of personal items that had been ruined. He actually had to kick the backseat in through the trunk, because the door was already rusted shut. We called AAA and had them towed to our mechanic. Goodbye.
       I felt that I had done all I could do. But I was empty. Tired. Sad. Alone. Seriously, who wanted to hear me anymore? I didn't want to hear myself.
    I spoke to my family and close friends several times each day. I learned that my sister's house was a total loss. It had to be knocked down, if it didn't topple on its own first. Heartbreaking. My sister and her husband and children were now homeless. Of course they could come to me, but that would just a temporary fix. And gas was short, so they needed to stay close for FEMA. My brother's house was standing and safe, but without power. 3 kids and a dog in an ever increasingly cold house was not a good combination. He was heading for the warmth of our parents' house, which was mercifully unharmed. My friends were still living together. They had nowhere else to go. Thankfully, they had each other.
        I needed something to do. Back to Facebook. This time was different. I happened upon a post that would seriously change the course of my mood, attitude and outlook.  This time, I didn't cry.

                                                          The same story all over the city

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