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We have become savvy to the ways of Mother Earth and most of us respect her power over us. How could we not? Thanks to technology any disaster that affects us is available for viewing with the click of a button. With that we have learned how to behave during emergencies, natural or otherwise.
Thursday night I had one of my bouts of insomnia and finally got fed up with tossing and turning so I decided to flip on the TV and watch something mindless. That often helps me fall asleep. Not that night. Unfortunately, the TV programming I had on from my previous viewing was a news network so the rest of the night I was glued to the TV watching amazing videos of the huge earthquake(s) and subsequent tsunami(s) in Japan. As the hours wore on people started sending their cell phone videos and camera videos to the news networks. The fact I viewed all of this in the comfort of my bed snuggled under a comforter with my dogs did not escape me.
Sometimes when I watch a disaster such as the one in Japan (there have been so many in my lifetime, natural and otherwise) I walk around my house and look at my “things” and wonder what items I would miss. It goes without saying that I would like to survive a horrific event and that I would want all of my family, friends, neighbors, and pets to survive, but once we have confirmed the safety of all of us we take a look at what we’ve lost. Some things we must consider are practical: banking records, food, money, BILLS, how to return to work without a car or money to pay for transit, etc. But what happens after the basic necessities is often painful and tough to overcome.
When I survey my home I never think of my furniture or my appliances or clothing. Yes, that would be difficult to replace and life would be hard without things to maintain daily life but what I would be very sad to lose would be my little collectible items from the family. Each generation entrusts the next to care for these family “heirlooms.” Some of the items are small plaster casts of my kids’ handprints from kindergarten, little porcelain tea sets my mom had as a girl, framed photos, house plants I’ve had so long I don't remember where or when I got them but they are almost like pets to me, and my sanctuary in general, my home. If we survive being thrust out of our homes our very reason for living becomes an incredibly long struggle. I know this because of the amazing coverage we can view for days and weeks and months after a disaster.
I remember many years ago a huge fire devastated the Oakland hills here in California. Weeks and months later as people were interviewed they shared stories of survival and they were grateful beyond imagination. But after the initial horror of the event had subsided and they began working to find housing and something to wear besides their pajamas they started talking about the little things and were so thankful when a fire fighter would present them with a found wedding ring or a photo that had somehow survived. Not one of them jumped for joy because someone found their TV. I remember one woman when allowed to visit the site where her house once stood spent hours looking for her children’s baby books. I never learned if she found them but looking at the debris that used to be her home I had my doubts.
Another woman said that about a year after the event she was still dealing with so much to get her life back and one day she remembered something she lost and she broke down and couldn’t function for a few days: her grandma’s sweater. I know how she feels. I have my grandma’s sweater and I still use it on cold mornings. She had been battling so much but the loss of the sweater put her over the top.
Though my grandmother was a small child during the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco the dialog surrounding that event stayed with the people in the Bay Area for years. She grew up knowing so much about it she sometimes spoke as though she remembered the events personally when actually she just remembered her family’s observations because she had been a mere toddler. They talked about it so often with family members, neighbors, and friends that it became her event. She didn’t live in San Francisco but she lived in a near-by city close enough that the family felt the quake and the area she lived in also sustained damage and deaths and injuries. She would be amazed that today she could watch such an event on TV.
Over the years I’ve gone through the house and affixed earthquake putty to many items (since I live in an earthquake zone) and I’ve tried to carefully place things that might hurt us, but what I do to protect my home for an earthquake would not help at all in a flood or a fire. So it comes back to the power of the earth again. We can only protect our lives to a point but the earth can open up and swallow us and how do we prevent that? We don’t. But we can stay alert and do our best if and when something happens to us and watch out for others. We may be safe but what about our neighbors?
Technology helps us to survive and helps us to help others survive. We all complain about the invasive aspects of technology but when something like this latest earthquake happens we flock to our TVs, cell phones, and computers because we must see how our fellow humans are managing. Even those of us living the events find the strength to video our surroundings or take photos or tweet updates or share information on our social network sites---as the event is happening all around us. By doing so we provide valuable information and guidance to others to either avoid the areas in trouble or inform authorities. Millions of eyes protect us all the time. For all the crappola we endure with our invasive society it’s times like these we appreciate what we’ve created and that we are connected.
And yet, with all our human wonders designed to help and protect us, the earth trumps us every time. It’s powerful and relentless and it moves where it wants to move and our oceans wash us away like ants. That’s what I came away with Thursday night. From a helicopter we look like ants and the fairly calm yet powerful water surges just kept on coming and washed so many away. But we’re a brave species and resilient and we do recover. We’ve done so since the beginning of time.
I wrote this at 4:30 a.m. PST with the earthquake and tsunami news in the background while sipping coffee in my pajamas. My neighborhood was safe and quiet and everything was calm and peaceful. My region here in northern California was encased in a huge fog bank and it was eerie on that particular morning. But for another day I’m fine. I truly appreciate each and every day but know I’m on borrowed time---as are we all.
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