To be forgotten

I know a bit about how the Katrina folks felt.

We have been without power since Tuesday morning.
As a matter of fact, the power went out about 5 minutes
after I typed in my last post.

No one expected this. And apparently no one (out there)
seems to know the severity of this county's situation.
This county and the four surrounding counties
all without power until yesterday.

Ours came on at 11 or so last night.

On Wednesday, the mayor ordered an emergency evacuation
for anyone who could evacuate. But that was a tricky
situation. You could not get gas, kerosene, propane,
food--nothing at all for days. We were fortunate that
we had gas in our vehicles. We drove to Clarksville, TN
to try to find a generator but were told there were none
to be found anywhere closer than AL. We couldn't even
find an oil lamp or a cooking stove.

On Thursday, our neighbor drove to Terre Haute, IN
and bought two generators. We bought one from him.
So, on Friday morning, we had some power in the house,
but the generator was not compatible with our heating
system. It did pump out the two feet of water that had
risen in our basement and it kept the fridge going and
the microwave and a small electric heater and a few lights.

We had been told it could be up to four weeks before
we had power again. And it is likely that the outlying
areas in the county will be without power that long.
I am only a few blocks from downtown--the city
center--so I hoped we would get ours sooner than
the predictions.

It feels strange to be connected again. We've all been
in survival mode all week. Just trying to keep warm and
keep food in our bodies.

It's odd, too, to become connected once again and find you
haven't been missed. Odd indeed. This whole experience
has much to say to me about my life, who I am important
to, and what is important to me.

It's hard to say what was most missed. Had we not had
a small propane camping heater which kept the room
we stayed in around 40, I would say the heat. But you don't
know how much you miss the light until the night comes
and blackness is all around and there are no trains
running and the only sound is the occasional passing
on the road of an emergency vehicle.

I feel humbled. I feel happy to be alive. I feel strange.

I am looking at the wreck that was my backyard. It looks
like a war zone out there. But we have out house. I don't
know how many burned down in town. We had no radio and no
paper until yesterday.

Yes, I feel we were forgotten. We were all saying
Where's FEMA, where's the National Guard, where
are supplies? But nothing was happening, or it was
and we just didn't know. That remains to be seen.

And, yes, I was forgotten, but that doesn't seem so
important either.

More to come.