Both/And in the Storm

It's not all bad.  For dinner we made grilled cheese, corn on the cob, squash and zucchini, and ate with our feet dangling in the pool.  It made me grateful for running water, for a gas stove, for fresh fruits and vegetables (at least fresh for a day or so), for Ben, my sister, company.

Now, hours later, lightning cracks and flashes over us once again, thunder and rain.  Will all the power they've worked so hard to get on go out again tonight??  

A cool humid breeze and the smell of rain are blowing through the front door (along with some bugs that keep landing on me in the dark).  Kaia Joye and I are folding laundry by flashlight light in the stormy wind and slight spray of rain. 

For 45 seconds, the power comes on!!!!!!!!  We are so shocked we laugh until our stomachs hurt and tears stream down our faces, and then laugh harder at how hard we're laughing.  The release of all that surprised laughter is worth the new darkness we find ourselves in.

Every night after I’ve gotten the kids tucked in in the basement campout room, I’ve sat outside in the yard reading until I can’t see the book’s pages any more.  That is different than regular life.  That is slowing down. 

And now, sitting on this cold floor, I am slowing down again, slowed, looking at the woods. 

The fireflies in the black trees are unbothered by the rain, by the lightning, by the dark house or our porch shrieking.  They stay in steady pursuit and hold their own light.  

They are reminders.  All of this, both/and in the storm.