Well, I have rejoined the modern world.
As a lifelong resident of NJ to say this past week was the most difficult I have ever endured is an understatement. Through the gas leaks in my town, to the trees falling through neighbors’ homes, the week was dreadful. For 6 long days, I had no power, no cell service, no internet, no phone, no street lights, no traffic lights, and no way to reach the outside world.
About 3 hours ago or so my power came back on. As a result I am back in the modern world. Yet, this past week as difficult and uncomfortable as it may have been, allowed me to do some serious thinking.
This week, as I sat cold, hungry, sitting with a flashlight in my face with an eye towards my window because of the unfortunate horrors of looting in my town, I realized as dejected and despondent as I felt, I was lucky. It may have been freezing and I may have had a craving for something to eat other than what came in a can, but at least there was a roof over my head, and a place to sit. I would be lying to you all if I said although I was alive with a roof over my head, that I never got frustrated with the darkness this week. I did. I lost my tempter a few times and began to wonder if my town fell off the map, if they even knew about the outage, if the power would ever come back on. This feeling of hopelessness certainly didn’t expire, when the battery operated transistor radio that got me through the week began to report the towns coming back on with power. Yet not mine.
Nevertheless, it could have been worse. Most definitely. This I know. I have begun to catch up on what I have missed, almost feeling much like a human being who has been missing for some time suffering from amnesia. The truth is, as horrific and ghastly as the radio descriptions made the scenes that encircled my lifelong state seem, nothing could actually do it the justice it deserved until you could finally see it.
That process has begun. I’ve begun to see the pictures, the videos, and see the horror that has overcome where I live. It has filled me with dejection and sorrow. It made the 6 nights I sat in the dark, hungry and cold seem like nothing. I had it lucky. Those people, my fellow statesman, who have had their homes destroyed, their lives destroyed, only wish they had my problems. My problems were naught compared to theirs.
I am sorry for them. Truly. My heart breaks for what has occurred in my state. I know throughout my life starting in early childhood they talked that this would happen one day. They drilled it into our minds that the day would come where NJ would have our version of the great earthquake that they talk so much about for the west coast. In one ear and out the other. No more though. It has come, and it is beyond belief. Beyond devastating. There is not a word yet developed in the English vocabulary to help adequately describe what has happened to my state.
But I am here. I back in the modern world. I have power, and heat. Tomorrow, I will make a trip to my local grocery store to replace the food I had to throw away. When Monday comes to my area in NJ, it will be as close to normal as it possibly could be. Schools will return to session and everyone will return to work. I will begin to put this horrible and shocking event behind me. These 6 days while quite frankly, and hopefully, wind up the longest 6 days of my life, are nothing compared to the broken lives that must be pieced back together from others. And THAT will take a hell of a lot longer than 6 days.
So I am happy, grateful, and fortunate to be back to a sense of normalcy. I am joyful and delighted to begin catching up on the diaries posted here, and once more interact with all of you wonderful and fantastic folks here at Daily Kos.