The power finally came back on late Thursday. The DSL line came back today. The borrowed generators are ready to go back to their owners. I finally washed off the streaks of dirt and filth that accumulated on my skin over the last week. I shaved my legs. I scrubbed my scalp and conditioned my hair. There's still some debris to clean up in the yard, but I think it's safe to close the door on Hurricane Irma.
Irma wasn't my first major hurricane. I was without power for two weeks after Charley cut a path through Osceola County. Those days are a blur to me now, hazy visions of picking up free ice, sleeping on the tile floor in the bathroom and using the solar lamps from my garden for heat-free light inside my house. I held on to those fuzzy memories in the wake of Irma. In the aftermath of a hurricane, there's a bit of comfort in knowing that even the most desperate feeling moments eventually fade.
But here's the thing, some of what felt so desperate to many people were actually comforting to me. I kind of enjoyed living the last week and a half without electricity. The days were simple. I woke in the morning as the sun spilled just enough light into the living room to brighten it. I cleaned and checked the updates from the power company. I spent a lot of time outside on my front porch (under an umbrella since Irma decided to give my porch a makeover), alternating between lazy naps and important phone calls. I fell asleep gazing at stars in a nearly black night sky.
I heard an interview with a biologist who explained that one purpose of a hurricane is to upset the landscape and bring balance back to the places where fresh and salt water meet. That's exactly what Irma did for me. She shut off my television and Internet and forced me to slow down and live moment by moment through the southwest Florida September heat.
Irma gave me sweat beading on my skin--and I swear it looks better than ever. She gave me a chance to sleep in the afternoon as the temperature peaked. She silenced my home and forced me to take a break from the work that has been weighing me down lately. She let me clean and clean out my home. She filled my heart through the generosity of friends and strangers who shared with me their food, supplies, showers and skills.
Life will go back to normal when I wake in the morning and try to settle back into a routine, but I hope to hold on to some of these unexpected gifts. In fact, you'll have to excuse me. The stars are out now, and the moon is a perfect sliver in the sky.
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