IN THE EYE OF THE STORM...

they said "ike" was coming, so stand clear. we jokingly said it was gon' be a bad one since it was named like tina turner's ex. we didnt know it would require the national guard. folks in the galveston/waterfront area borded their homes and went to "Oz," an unknown place somewhere east of houston; a place to seek shelter and hope for the best. we would need more than ruby shoes and clicked heels to make it back. gasoline was on a shortage, and 12 oz. bottles of water were 7 dollars. traffic moved slowly, when at all. thousands tried to evacuate. many under mandatory rule. our county was not. it must have been fate, or something God is trying to tell me...

there is, for me, nothing more frightening than the wrath or "Acts of God," things no human can counter. this weekend the city i call home, houston texas, faced hurricane "ike." and for the first time, in my displacement, in my days away from home and my mom and daddy, i understood what it means to love someone so much that their circumstance becomes your flesh worn sorrow. for the first time in my life i was helpless to the ones i would give my last breathe, and even then, that was not enough. there was nothing i could do to make it better. looking back, reality and fear crept into my body mimicked the weather and wept. so, a few times during the week, during the hurricane, i wept too.

i was at home in houston the wednesday night before the storm. ike came on a friday. i was due to fly a trip that day. instead, scheduling called and "asked" if i would fly out on thursday to dallas and start my trip from dallas, not houston. still, we didnt foresee the winds the catastrophe, the angry sky. i didnt know i would walk out of that house and still, as i type, be without my parents. diabetes, the inspiration of this blog project, makes me a ready warrior though. so i packed 2 months worth of meds and tubing for my pump. batteries in case my meter failed, a second meter in case my batteries failed, my medic-alert, cash in case my medic alert broke, my iPhone, computer, three law books (about 5 pounds each!), and a rosary.   i had more weight in my bags than on my bones. but necessity will bring muscle to surface. that is how i have toned my flesh, via survival. no gyms, just living and gripping life.  injecting syringes, pulling weight, and lunging in prayer.  

as assigned, i went to dallas. that friday, i woke up in a cold hotel, went to the airport and caught a flight to san antonio then another to philly. i sat in philly for two hours, and worked a flight to providnce RI. once i got to my providence hotel late that night, i settled in. the winds in RI were calm. amazing how different my surroundings were from CNN's footage of home. when i spoke t a supervisor in dallas he besmirkingly asked, "why are you crying?" asshole. but then being an asshole is his role i supposed, so  i shrugged and said nothing.  i dared not waste what energy i had on reasoning with a fool. 

i sat in bed and watched the winds and the water poor into the city. even from a tv set in providence, the houston wind sounded like a boeing 747 prepped to take off, the palm trees were leaning, metals and debry spun through the air, the ocean was coming outside of itself. landfall. my mom and daddy were still there. we were one of few counties not under mandatory evacuation, so they stayed. panic set in. i wasnt sure that they had made the right decision. but then, how do we prepare for God's will?? the commentators spoke of rising waters 25 feet above the 17 foot shore wall. the town looked like a war zone. houses empty, looters on the prowl, streets stripped. reporters called the storm historical and brewing. it would get worse. i saw familiar buildings on the screen, one caught afire- buildings that i passed daily. i knew, in that water was my support team- my mom and dad. fear and faith fought one another and i cried uncontrollably. i was afraid for them. they lived their lives to better mine, and there was nothing i could do to save theirs. that hurt the most. the kind of hurt that makes me hiccup when i cry; the kind of hurt that blurred my vision; the kind of hurt that made me angry;   so much that it was tangible emotion. i was learning what they knew- sometimes, when you see danger infront of your loved ones, all you can do is watch. and in doing so, you can lose your mind. its a torture, literal back curling torture. my posture weakend. my appetite, gone. i wouldnt eat for 3 days, just thinking about them, and the other houstonians. in my mind i started an inevitable body count. 

"why are you crying?"  i should have asked him why he wasn't. but i don't argue with fools.  like jay z said, when you argue with fools, people from a distance can't tell who is who...

i tried my best to keep faith and disregard fear. i called home, just to hear their voices. nothing. i called again. my mother answered. she sounded overwhelmed. the water was filling her patience. it's amazing how in sync  one is to her mother. i knew things she wouldnt say. i wanted nothing more than to stop the hurricane. for a minute, i wondered whether my faith was strong enough to do just that. but i remembered, i'm no jesus. i can hardly get my A1Cs in order, let alone a category 4 hurricane.  there would be no walking on water that night.  all i could do was let it fall as it may. 

i watched the screen as we spoke and i cried without her knowing. but then maybe she did know. nevertheless, i dressed my tone in a performance worhty of an oscar. i could not rattle her energy. i could not let mama know i was afraid for her. that i hated ike for trying to emasculate daddy.  that alone would be too much.

i wanted to be with my parents, as they have been for me. but i was thousands of miles and days away from them. even as i type this, i am waiting to go home. the storm has been documented, the guards called in by Pres. Bush, the neighbors and family have made concerned calls. real friends have checked on our whereabouts as far as california. they called, counting among the fatalities of the storm, praying it was neither of my parents. we are inbound, away from the coastal shore, but close enough that danger loomed and lights a hopeless luxury. they have no electricity.  the heat is grave.  no flowing water.  sewage soaks the city.  what little things we take for granted have evaported in ike's furry. hot water. light. air. all thoise things my mom and dad gave me, they found ways to get what my sister and I needed. and here i was, unable to give them light. i am thirsty for them. i hope the pantry is full. 

yet, even though i have not seen my folks since last wednesday, i know that diabetes and their role in my survival is metaphorically connected to this catastrophe and our family unit. the hurricane reminds me that we have been through this before. diabetes has been my storm, my ike. it has been god's work on me, and i love my parents for choosing to ride it out with me. my bloodsugars, are the waters- some over the sea level range and some well below. and in the tumultuous tides, my mom and dad, even when there was truly nothing they could do or buy to save me, they stood with me, and embodied my fear as their own. but instead of constant weeping for me, they rubbed sticks together for electricity. they taught me to keep warm by leaning on them. they taught me to board up my fears and protect myself. water will come, god's work will always be bigger than us. but it is the aftermath that tells the story.

sometimes all you can do is protect your frame and move yourself from harms way. sometimes al you can do is watch the waters fall as they may.  the tide will settle.  but if harm follows, you have to know how to take cover, how to take prayer. how to know when you have done all you can do...and hold on; how to kneel to the heavens.   my parents, they remind me to keep faith in things unseen. be not afraid of things unknown, and to lie in the trenches.

becauase of my mom, dad, hurricanes, and diabetes, i believe in prayer. its not a matter of telling God what i want or need.  that is child's play, pestering.  God is fully aware, of what i want.  it is a matter of preparing for what God has for me.  what i need.   sometimes when i have an unexplained 400 bloodsugar, followed by that clearly explainable (overtreated highs turn to lows) 23, i HATE my circumstance. but when i get brace of myself, and a reality that it is what it is, i rememebr to lie in the trench, to take cover, and to pray. faith is knowing that things will be fine. "fine" is not necessarily how i define it, but peace in what God's definition of it is, FOR me. that takes patience and courage. that is the essence of riding out a hurricane. that is the essence of survival.  if again a fool ever asks why are you crying in the midst of a hurricane, i will know- because God is showing me who is God, and I am a witness.

in a few more days i expect to see my mom and daddy. i am en route for another trip... i will be home sunday. however houston is on mandatory curfew, so i will stay at the airport til daybreak. my dad will come and get me. i will see him and my mother differently. before the storm, i thought they worried too much about my diabetes, that they hovered over me and wouldnt let me live freely. now, i see what has been their entire life with me. they have spent the years of my life like i did in the days before and during Ike- afraid that the storm would be too big, not knowing when or whether light would come, wondering if technology was a lie, holding on to what ever pieces of "solid" that they could; all to keep our house, our lives, and our hope from caving in. 

the things we agree with, the things that anger us, the things that kill us- we have to respect them as God's order, and fear nothing. that takes practice. i forgot that, but Ike reminded me.
yes Lord, i will see my mom and dad come monday morning and i will know that  hurricanes and diabetes are twins. i will respect what they are made of. i will know what family is made of. i will know what life is made of- a cocktail of tears, water, sky, battles, unearthly winds and the trauma of making it. shit, diabetes is just another bridge. i learned that if it too shatters, i have a home and a family watching over me. i have a God that knows beyond  category 4 storms, before the diabetes, and after the stars lose light. i have uncategorized faith...