Hurricane Hillary was downgraded to a tropical storm. It was supposed to hit Sunday at 2:00 p.m. and damage was still expected. The second hour of church was canceled so everyone could hurry home and hunker down.
We had leftover pizza from the night before and little boxes with leftover lasagne and pasta from the night before, the night before. I'd bought extra water in case the downpour caused flooding or broken pipes. Secure, we sat next to the window to watch the storm take over.
It came with a vengeance. Palm trees hula danced, torrential rain blew sideways. We watched the few people who were out, push themselves into the wind. We watched a lady open her car door, let her dog out to do its business, --then let it back in and drive fifteen seconds back to the parking garage.
When safe inside, storms are beautiful. Powerful. Memorable.
After playing two rounds of skip-bo, it was time to return to my place. Mom offered to let me drive her car, but I wanted to feel the full force of the tropical bluster. I thought of a friend years ago who was going through such a difficult marriage that her physician father suggested she take an antidepressant. She told him no, for she wanted to feel the full force of rock bottom, so when she climbed out of it, there would be no doubt of where she had landed.
I've thought a lot about wanting to feel the extremes--of cold and of warmth, of hope and despair, of fullness and loss. One can hardly exist without the other, and I wanted to know both. I wanted to know the power of a storm so I could appreciate the calm.
So I left the umbrella in 302 because it would have been ripped to shreds. I was determined to love being pelted and ripped about by the rain and wind.
And I was determined to go the long way --on the beach boardwalk, so I could witness the sea in a severe storm.
I opened the door and was deluged with rain and wind. The only way was the shortcut way. I ran with my head down unable to enjoy the desired sensations.
It was so bad, that a car stopped, rolled down the window and asked if they could give me a ride. Total strangers were moved to save me from my insanity. But I was only a short distance away, thanked them and kept moving.
When I was safe in the apartment, I regretted skipping the beach.
Many regrets can be remedied. Yes, I headed out to the beach to feel the full magnificent force of a tropical storm.
Glorious.
And the next morning when it was perfectly calm, when not one palm was swaying, when the ocean was still, I appreciated it more than ever before.
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