25.4 F
Naperville
Monday, February 10, 2025

Real Life – Specter

-

Up to my eyeballs in alligators, I daydream of youth, when storms were exciting. Cloudbursts meant puddles and earthworms, then damp chills chased away by grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Rain’s aroma seeped through cracked open windows. Fresh and sweet, it signaled new starts, and spirits lifted.

Koltes_WebYet these days when thunderstorms threaten, I shift uneasily and eye the skies with trepidation. The hundred year rain of 1996 jarred my childhood romantic notions loose.

Flood waters filled basements. Riverside parks transformed into roiling torrents of bobbing benches and logs. One storm, and routines came unhinged.

We ate in the street. Neighbors pooled grills, sharing the food unpowered refrigerators failed to cool. We sandbagged with The National Guard, and trudged through filth into town to get free tetanus shots with friends. When the worst of it was over, treasures turned to rubbish lined parkways. Disaster tape blocked sidewalks. The mayor gave a television interview right in front of our house. This town’s destruction became national news.

It is no wonder I cannot sleep when the thunder rolls and the lightening flashes.

What used to be the exciting sounds of nature gone wild have turned into a worry. Last month, another violent storm rearranged our lives.

When you don’t know what day it is, I have found, you are either on vacation, or the opposite. I admit that I have met the most interesting people in the process of this disaster, colorfully tattooed disaster specialists among them. The parade of men through my home haul enormous sucker machines, HEPA air cleaners, scrubbers and the like, and emerge with my flooring, and black bags of things I don’t want to imagine. My dog barks frantically at each intrusion, and when they leave, even briefly, I disinfect, mop, and recoil.

Plumbers at midnight, adjustors at morn, the saga unfolds. A chaos that takes years to conclude, the flood etches rain-filled memories, far from those of grilled cheese.

- Advertisement -
Patti Koltes
Patti Koltes
Real Life © by Patti Koltes. Contact her at pkoltes@gmail.com.
spot_img

LATEST NEWS