It’s been a year since we started asking “what’s up with our house?”
We are getting closer every day. In fact, we’re expecting our Building Permit today!
I wrote a little something about the storm coming. And thanked some very special people who stepped up during this past year for us at the end. And in the end, we are thankful.
There’s a Storm Coming
We were all in costume
Drinking and Eating
Laughing and Bonding
Halloween was coming
The next morning came and I was hungover
Dabbing & soaking the wine stains off my sisal rug,
lifting up toys, books, shoes from off
the floor and putting them up top of anywhere & everywhere
I left the decorations up and thought
I’ll take them down
when we get back
A call came in from the town to prepare;
we were already packed like
we were going on a camping trip.
We knew the drill from last year’s “Irene”
Flashlights, candles, extra t-shirts,
lots of socks.
Bring extra underwear –
we don’t know when we’ll be back.
Call the nearby hotels,
they’re booked solid –
Call the hotels out of town –
they’re all booked solid.
Call the ones in the City,
they’re all booked solid.
Got a call from a dear friend,
come stay with us, she says.
If my heart could sink and rejoice all at once
Gladly booked to the hills,
driving through the southern streets, flooding already began
It’s Sunday afternoon
There’s a storm coming.
When we get to our dear friends retreat,
There’s a party sense still lingering in the air
from the Saturday night before
Filling our glasses with wine
Dining on warm fare,
bright lights still beaming,
TV blaring with nonsense and bliss
Playing cards, making crafts—
when all of a sudden, the lights went out.
All the way up here in the mountainesque sky
How’d it reach us here
Counting flashlights, trips to the car
to charge our phones even though
there was no cell service
No internet service
No service of any kind — silence.
The only light shining that night
Beyond the distance, behind the sky-scraping trees,
way up, up high, high up — flashing lights of exploding transformers
Thunder without rain
Like fireworks and laser beams
A slightly odd haze
Winds fiercely raging indiscriminately
Pockets of calm with bursts of heavy swaying tree’s
The storm is here—-
Get to sleep – nothing to see/hear
Glad I brought my blanket
I feel at home with my blanket
Security getting the best of me
It’s the next day – we find a spot,
A few houses down, across the street
In front of house number 31, stand near the driveway
Point north, and raise your left knee
This is where we can make calls
Reached out to my sister first
She’ll get the word out that we’re all ok
She rushes me off the phone
She has many things to do
I understand, and don’t hear from her until Christmas
The lights are still out, and it’s getting cold
My great friend’s Dad rigs the boiler
And warms more than our feet that day
Constant anguish guised behind a facade of strength
Anxiety over the unknown – is my house still there?
Has the Bay swallowed our home
Will we have a home to go back to today
Can we get to it? Do we bring the baby? Is it safe to drive? Are there roads?
No oil rigs getting close to our fair city
Mapping out the distance back to our house
against the mileage left in our tank
Sitting in the car on Gas lines 3 hours long
Watching a post-apocalyptic show
on my Mac Book pro
Feeling comforted to know we have no zombies
Shivering pedestrians impatiently awaiting
People pushing their fuel-starved cars through by hand
Jaw dropping scenes on our first drive to our house
A dock from the marina sits atop “Golfie”
The house… some things hurt too much to describe
The scene would tear at our souls…to this day
The look in my neighbors eyes – a state of shock & despair
Just like the zombies, glazed eyes, dirty boots
moving around without thought, just function
We didn’t know what the storm took from us at the time
but we know now what can not be replaced.
Thankful for so much this past year, more than i have ever known gratitude before.
On this anniversary of the day we lost our home to the largest storm surge our town had ever seen, I am first & foremost grateful for the loving kindness of my fellow man. It wasn’t the stuff we lost, but the homeless feeling that came with being displaced that affected us the most. But the people who stepped up, and stepped into our lives and helped us out are the reason we “survived” it.
Special Thanks to:
The Merlino Family; for opening your home to us during evacuation, and giving us a temporary home in yours, even in the darkest days of your year.
The McCadden Family; Dominique, Peggy, John & Bailey the dog (r.i.p) – For giving our little family of three a new home in yours, the love, hugs & great conversation, making us feel like family during such a lonely time.
DiPaola, Giordano-Eadie families for adopting our family for Christmas, and bringing us such great relief and delight in finding some of the essentials we lost in the storm under our christmas tree.
Geanine Berk – For helping guide our grief stricken hearts back to life.
The LaRocco Family – Helping heal us from the states of shock in reminding us constantly how much we are loved.
The Meza & Vallejo Families – For Supporting Jerry in gathering the troops to dig us out, pushing us beyond the state of shock to get our shit out of the house, being the rock to ground us when it seemed the world around us was falling apart – yeah, you did that cuz you da man!
Lori Zlotoff, The JCC & The UJA, and Lisa D – Style for Hire – For helping me find my groove again with the wonderful make-over, inside & out.
Brady Wetherington, Christine Johnson, John Meza, Antonio Pagan – For helping dig us out.
Doug Vaggi, Tim Lambert & David Berridge – For your architectural visions, and compassion.
Nanda Veenstra & Diane Delaney – For being the best neighbors ever.
Rockville Center Public Library – For keeping the lights on for us.
Little Minds Montessori – For giving our son a “home” away from home.
Diana Galinanes – For being a great friend in a dark & confusing time.
The Stabile Family – For giving us a little anniversary vacation, and opening our world to yours.
Woodloch Pines – For all the freebies, upgrades & warm welcome.
Amy Klee Badurina – For raising dough, along with our Art & Design Alum (in more ways than one) for our family.
Rosy Diaz – For always being there without missing one single solitary beat. You are my sister in love, law, truth and happiness – always.
Genaro Meza – Dad!!! For enrapturing us with your love, helping us move our salvaged stuff in the snow, bringing a much needed comfort to our lives and restoring a familiar sense of security to our hearts. love you love you love you more!!!
Sebastian & Bryan – My reasons for breathing. You give me strength in everything I do.
The bean in my belly – For helping me see beyond what’s right in front of me.