I have a confession – a huge confession: I cannot remember the last time I cleaned out my refrigerator. I mean REALLY cleaned out my refrigerator – not just desultorily wiping off a shelf here and there.
I didn’t realize how gross it was until I came home from the New York City area after bidding a very enthusiastic adieu to two very unwelcome guests hovering around: Helene and Milt.
My niece – so thoughtfully – had emptied out the contents of my entire refrigerator and freezer shortly after our house lost power. So my first morning home, I spent over two hours wiping, washing, rinsing and drying every shelf, bin and drawer in said appliance.
When I finished, it was startling clean and I was totally exhausted.
I had one thought only: how in the heck do people recover from devastating loss of their property when I could hardly deal with two hours of hard labor restoring my refrigerator to receive new supplies of food?
It’s not lost on me – that unlike many others – I have the strength, the energy, the time and the resources to right my house after our most recent two natural disasters just days apart. And that I have the means to replace my salad dressings, yogurt drinks and fruits and veggies as soon as I feel like venturing out.
It is and it was like the Wild West in Florida:
Continuing flooding
Power outrages
Stinking debris on the sides of roads
Non-working traffic lights
Closed and shuttered schools, post offices, gas stations and familiar businesses.
And we in Tampa did NOT get a direct hit – it veered at the very end to just south of us.
Tonight, I go to sleep with a sparkling clean, well-stocked refrigerator.
Tonight, I go to bed with my outdoor furniture generously placed back in place by caring relatives. Ditto for my photo albums and plants.
Tonight, I watch the news in my pajamas with my air conditioning cooling me and electricity lighting my family room.
Tonight, I gaze out at a placid back yard, attentively restored and cleared of debris by the fine young man who takes care of mowing and mulching our yard.
Tonight, I go to bed with a roof still attached to my house and no sign of water damage, though we only live two short blocks from Tampa Bay.
I am so lucky.
Way too many Florida residents are not.
Am I thankful? You bet.
And I will donate where appropriate
and help when and where I am needed.
I will keep the victims in my prayers – all those who lost livelihoods and domiciles – all those who are now and will be for many weeks and months beset with anxiety and frayed nerves.
And to those who lost their lives, all 268 of them, I end with this song by Warren Zevon: Keep Me In Your Heart For A While.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMTKb-pgxGI
Shadows are fallin’ and I’m runnin’ out of breath
Keep me in your heart for a while
If I leave you it doesn’t mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for a while
When you get up in the mornin’ and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for a while
There’s a train leavin’ nightly called “When All is Said and Done”
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sometimes when you’re doin’ simple things around the house
Maybe you’ll think of me and smile
You know I’m tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while
Hold me in your thoughts
Take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes
Keep the fires lit so that
And I will be right next to you
Engine driver’s headed north up to Pleasant Stream
Keep me in your heart for a while
These wheels keep turnin’ but they’re runnin’ out of steam
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while
Warren Zevon intended the above song to be his final farewell. He was diagnosed with Mesothelioma in 2002. He told VH1 that “I don’t think anybody knows quite what to do when they get the diagnosis. I picked up the guitar and found myself writing this kind of farewell. Instantly I realized I’d found what to do with myself.”
Warren Zevon died in September, 2003 at age 56.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
PS Hurricane Milton devastated my friend Francine’s condo in Largo, Florida. She can’t live there.
“I am a walking zombie,” she confesses. “My entire acting career is gone…papers, teaching materials, all photos…my eBay store inventory..all furniture…I still have to pay for my condo fees and utilities… I’m living a nightmare.”
Please donate to Francine’s GoFundMe and share it with your friends.