Waiting For Irene
Actually two hurricanes came through this weekend.
Saturday night, like many here in town, we battened down the hatches. We bought the water and batteries, found the flashlights and radio, stocked up on non-perishable foods, and cleared the yard of potential airborne detritus in anticipation of Hurricane Irene’s blustery blow-by.
Little did we know that the real storm about to come through would be inside the house on this, the weekend before school starts.
This past weekend, Hurricane Lorette came to town.
She started developing significant pressure and gust about two weeks ago after so many weeks of summer vacation in small spaces. Vacation means a lot of family interaction. A lot. The pressure started to build with little microbursts here and there.
Saturday night, Hurricane Lorette was reaching maximum velocity by reading archived emails and realizing all the things that needed to be done for school beginning. Soccer cleats? Ballet and tap shoes? Did daughter do the assigned summer reading, complete the sheets, fill in the blanks, dot the i’s and cross the t’s? Had Mom filled out the forms, submitted the payments, arranged the schedules such they can conceivably be fulfilled?
By late Sunday morning, Hurricane Lorette was a force to be reckoned with, swirling about, kicking up speed and strength. Where are your new shoes? Where is your new backpack? Do you know what bus you are riding home? Why are there dirty clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper? Haircuts! We need haircuts!
People ran for cover.
Then came the inevitable, when the hurricane downgraded to a depression. My family was in the eye of the storm, because there was no where to run. Truly. Mom was not able to go out and run off the excess energy. It wasn’t safe out there in Irene. So Hurricane Lorette stayed inside while Hurricane Irene raged outside.
By Sunday evening, though Irene had moved on, Hurricane Lorette stuck around for a few more hours, organizing the backpacks, filling out more forms.
Later, I found out I was not alone in my stormy mentality. I ran into Hurricane Stacey at kindergarten orientation and Hurricane Maureen at the bus stop. Hurricane K and I together tried to ascertain whether we had sufficiently done all of our homework this year.
“The sign-off sheet?”
“The whale sheet?”
“The required reading sheet?”
“Rats…forgot that one.”
Opening day at school came and went with no difficulties and Hurricane Lorette melted into a warm, blue-sky day, with no sign of the storm and drang that twisted through these parts just a few days prior.
But she will be back, same time next year.