Thoughts on the Storm (Here It Comes!)

Ok, here we are, about eight hours until landfall, and all the preparation that is going to be done, is done. I have braved the fierce grocery store dragons, stocked up as well as possible given my cash supply and the selection remaining. I went to my dad's this morning and helped him secure his property (at least to his satisfaction; he simply would not allow me to do all that I thought should be done. His statements that "We didn't take all these precautions before and it all worked out fine!" raise hackles on my neck, but I just don't have the stamina to argue with him.)

Our windows are boarded up, the dogs have been walked to relieve their anxiety, and now we just watch and wait. The outer rain bands are beginning to come ashore; parts of Galveston Island are already under water. Here in my neighborhood, an eerie quiet has descended. I helped a couple of neighbors finish their prep, but mostly everyone has gone inside, to either watch the storm approach on TV (our local news channels went to 24-hour coverage yesterday), or to avoid all thoughts of the weather, by any means necessary (the video stores are as out-of-stock as the grocery stores and gas stations).

My home is about 65 miles inland, so the tropical-storm-force winds are just beginning to reach us now. It's strange to see winds coming in from the north-east, when I know the ocean is south-east of here, but we are on the "dirty side" of the eye, and this is how it will be until the storm passes us. I will try to keep updates coming is, as log as the lights stay on. When I have a chance to collect my thoughts, there will probably be more philosophy than reporting, but I haven't reached that point yet.

Please, keep us and the city, and the state of Texas at large in your prayers, we definitely need them. More later!!

Thoughts on the Storm (Prelude)

Well, life here in Houston, TX is about to get...interesting, to use the word in the sense of the ancient Chinese curse. ("May your life always be interesting." Myself, I prefer a little boredom!) As I write this, we are about 36 hours from landfall of Hurricane Ike, and the mood varies from panic to oblivion, depending on who you speak to. I fall somewhere toward the calmer end of the spectrum, but it is fascinating to observe this enormous variation in attitudes.

One part of my life is my profession; I am a construction foreman for a large mechanical contracting company, and we install HVAC and plumbing in new buildings. My current project is a 17-story office building, which is up to the eighth floor so far. My crew and I spent the morning tying down and securing tools, equipment, and about 30,000 lbs of sheetmetal, in the hope that when we return Monday we don't find it scattered across most of the Katy Freeway frontage road. I will be satisfied if the two 150-ft tall tower cranes are still standing after the weekend. The superintendant closed down the site for the weekend, so all the workers could attend to their own homes and families. The nature of construction management is to embrace the worst-case scenario, so as to avoid as muck risk as possible, and minimize the impact of what cannot be avoided; we have to think, "How bad can it get, and what can we do about it before it gets that way?"

Another segment of my life is my church. We had an abbreviated choir practice last night, followed by an impromptu deacon's meeting with the pastor. (I am not a deacon, but I serve as much as I can, and I am often priviledged to be included in planning and decision-making. I do love the small-church family atmosphere!) Our fellowship hall was constructed in the fifties, and was built to a standard unmatched by most contemporary structures, so we have a standing plan to convert to shelter status if the need arises. We keep food, bedding, essential medicines, and other basic neccessities available, and have a co-ordinated team on standby, to open the building, bring people in, feed them, and comfort them. We have contacted our entire congregation, informed them, and we will stay in touch with each other to assist in any way possible. We also make our facilities available to the community, and more than once have had twenty families living there for a week at a time. I daily praise and thank God for bringing me to such a loving and caring church, where I have the chance to contribute and serve in a meaningful way, and display the love of Christ for each other, and for"strangers" as well.

My home was built just after WWII, and in the twenty years I have lived here, we have never flooded. Even during Tropical Storm Allison, when the vast majority of Houston took over 20" of rain in 24 hours, water never came closer than 50 feet to the house. (We were in fact an island, because for half a mile or more in all directions, strees were impassable, and stayed that way for three days. My neighbors acrss the street watched helplessly as water climbed over their thresholds, sometimes rising two or three feet inside their homes.) I will be boarding up windows tonight and tomorrow, and after that we will just sit, watch, wait, and pray.

My dad is probably my greatest concern; he is an old-school fatalist, one of those "It doesn't matter what you do; either the storm passes you by, or destroys everything, so it does no good to prepare." kind of people. He has no intention of leaving, which is ok, I guess, since there isn't really anywhere for him to go. He will not come to my house, because he "has" to stay and watch over his house and his cat. I may be able to convince him to cover the windows and clear the stuff from the yard, but probably only if I do it myself over his objections. Most likely I will spend more time getting him ready than anything else, but that's ok, too; I feel it's my turn to care for him, to "repay" the years he spent caring for me when I was little. Isn't that the way it should be?

Well, there is more to write, but the lines at the stores are long and getting longer, and much remains to be done. I will post more as the weekend progresses, for as long as the power stays on, and then after it comes back. Keep us in prayer, and know that I love you for doing it. Later!!

Blogs are made for posting!

OK, it's been a hundred forevers since I posted anything, and so it's high time to make up for the lack. I kind of hoped that my regular postings would be of a devotional, inspirational nature, but the overachiever in me rose up and thwacked that idea in the head: " What inane tripe is this you're writing? This isn't blog material!" So, nothing got written. Well, begone with that! If you read my very first post, I stated then that my blog would be a sounding board/thinking space/release valve, and I got stuff! As the old proverb goes, "Sit down, shut up, and hang on!" (My, but is't that rude?)

The last couple of weeks have been just chock-full of activity and new things. Foremost on my mind is my dad. He's going on seventy, and stubborn as they come about taking care of himself. I talk to him on the phone every day, because he is the primary caregiver for his mother, my grandma, who is 91 and in late-stage Alzheimer's. She is still somewhat functional, but can no longer tend to her needs (meds, meals, remembering to bathe, etc.). Dad and I moved in with her when my grandpa passed away, back in 1979, and I left home from there for college, marriage, and my adult life. Dad stayed on, and over the years he has been there for all seasons.

Now, things are changing. About two weeks ago, I noticed he didn't sound right on the phone. He told me it was just a cold, and not to worry about it. I fianlly got over for a visit that weekend, and saw right away it was more than a cold. The left side of his face was hanging slack, he was drooling on that side, his memory was a little wonky, his speech was slurred if he didn't try real hard...all the classic stroke symptoms. He flatly refused to go to the ER, but finally I convinced him to see a doctor on the following Monday. Sher took one look, sent him to the hospital, and confirmed that he had in fact had a small stroke. They also found signs of one medium and several smaller events over the last two years which he had ignored. Add in chronic hypertension, bp 220/155 (which he has known about but refused to treat), and diabetes, blood sugar at 350 (ditto), and he was a pretty sick man. They kept him a week, getting him back into the realm of normal readings, and trying to convince him that all of this is manageable (and that management is necessary!) His standard answer is that our lives are ultimately in God's hands, and we go when He says so. God bless the cardiologist who looked him straight in the eye and said, "You are correct, but what are you going to tell God when He asks you why you mistreated this poor body He gave you while you were here? Don't you love Him enough to look after yourself?" (I have been trying to make this point with him for years, but I'm just his kid, what do I know?) The doctor also knocked the props out from under him when he said, "You know, the kind of strokes you've been having don't kill; they just leave you helpless, peeing in your pants while others feed you and clean you up. Is that the condition you want to be in when you finally do leave this life? How is that at all fair to the people here who love you?" (Graphic, but most effective!)

So, now Dad is on an adventure, learning how to live all over again. And I'm on it with him, coaching, supporting, explaining...It's not unlike taking care of kids again, except this one is independant and willful and needy and...wait, where's the "except"?

There's more to say, but I'm gonna leave it there for now. I need a chance to review my thoughts, and organize them into something that actually says what I'm trying to say. Stay tuned!