Don't Mess with Mother Nature

“Hurricane threat “- the dreaded two words for people who live on the beach.   For my family, preparing for hurricanes has become as routine as buying school supplies, and like this year, often done on the same day.   

We live on a very narrow island in the Southern Outer Banks of North Carolina.  They call it the Crystal Coast.  If you look at the photo, Emerald Isle is at the western part of that little sliver of land sitting in the ocean.  On the south side of us is ocean, and just on the other side is the Bogue Sound.  It is heaven - it truly is.  I absolutely love our little island, but once they announce that it’s hurricane season, it’s time to hold your breath a little, and know you may be in for a ride…

We've had a place in Emerald Isle for 15 years.  Our first beach house was 5 rows back with a nice little view of the ocean, and safety, we felt, from most storms.  We always said we were happy there, with no desire to be oceanfront.  Walking down to the beach with the kids and all our beach stuff loaded in a wheelbarrow (quite a sight), dragging all the stuff through the public access and trudging up the dune to finally be hit in the face with that wondrous ocean breeze was worth every sweaty, whiney step.  But when we were relocated to England from Toronto, we sold our house when the market was hot, and we found ourselves with some extra cash.  There was this perfect oceanfront lot for sale just down the street from our 5^th row house.  It had a high dune, and no public access around us.  So… we decided to take the risk and build oceanfront!!  How excited we were!  It really was hard to believe.  My husband’s dream was to have a house on the ocean.  So we said – “Let’s do it!!”  People would ask if we were worried about hurricanes.  Clearly we thought of this, who wouldn’t?  But we made the choice to build on the ocean, and the beauty and peace of it was worth the risk.... we said.... we hoped.  So, while living in England, we had our house built here in North Carolina, meeting with the builders on our trips back to the states.  This was, for us, a labor of love.

The girls and I moved to the beach house permanently in 2003, and my husband planned to follow once he retired from Johnson & Johnson in 2004 (He did retire from Johnson & Johnson in 2004, only to take over a couple of other companies and continue commuting to EI to this day).  We had moved a lot with my husband’s job, and Emerald Isle was the only true home base my kids knew.  I wanted life to slow down for them – for all of us.  They had lived in a world of people who were given too much and were all so similar – corporate people, professionals, and there was a sense of entitlement that I didn’t want my children to adopt.  I wanted my kids to be exposed to people from all walks of life, to choose their friends by who they were inside,  not what they had, and to understand that it’s character that makes someone a success – not position…and Carteret County offered the diversity I sought for my family.

So we settled into our new lives on Emerald Isle.  We weren’t there for more than a month when we were faced with our first hurricane.  I remember not knowing a soul and sitting in the chair at the hairdressers listening to the women talking about the impending hurricane.  I kind of ignored it -- until I heard someone say  "Category 3" and "in two days".   I thought,  “What???   I flipped!  Here I was alone with a third grader and a 7th grader in a brand new school, in a brand new town, knowing no one, and faced with a Category 3 hurricane!  What the hell was that???  I had no idea!!  So I called Tom "suggesting" he leave PA and come to NC pronto!!!!   Tom grew up in NC and lived in FL for years.  He knew hurricanes and very calmly told me there was no hurry and to calm down.  I was from Indiana - used to tornados, which hit as soon as you got the warning - and I WAS in a hurry - and not calm!   But, I soon learned you had days to prepare...thankfully.  So - prepare I did.  I think I took every single painting off the walls, every piece of crystal off the shelves, every document we ever received and every single picture and packed them in my SUV.  I wasn't leaving anything behind.  When Tom got to NC he looked at me like I was nuts, but being my very calm cool and collected husband who knows better than to mess with a panicking woman who feels her family is a risk, he let me do my thing.   I was packed at least a day before we left, and then the waiting began….  I was so shocked at the calmness of everything.  Where were the waves?  Where was the wind?  Why was the beach still so beautiful and the birds just hanging out?

Once the hurricane shutters were up and the patio furniture inside, we packed up the kids, our Golden Retriever Fluffy, our two kitties, Sprinkles and Capri, our fish Blue Grotto, and off we went to a hotel in Raleigh - to shelter - to safety.  The storm pretty much missed Emerald Isle and went inland - crossing over Raleigh.  Are you kidding me?  We were stuck in the middle of a monsoon!  Our hotel lost electricity and the backup generator failed.  The fire alarm went off, and as we were feeling our way out the door my oldest daughter Christine knocked the fish bowl over, and Tom stepped on and squashed Blue Grotto. What a fiasco!  So finally, we went back to Emerald Isle, and found our house essentially damage free.   Whew!!

After that experience I pledged to approach the whole hurricane season in a much calmer way.  Each year we have threats, and every year if a hurricane is predicted we put the shutters up and bring in the furniture. We always evacuate when the officials call for it, and I always bring our old photos that I don't have on a computer and pack up the pets.  Otherwise, it's all pretty routine.  I've learned that hurricanes are usually pretty slow moving, and it's better to be safe than sorry.  The fact that you do have days to prepare is a blessing, but sometimes it’s a curse as well.  It gives you time to worry…. to fret…. to imagine the worst – to sit glued to the Weather Channel only to watch the same thing over and over.  But honestly that’s not healthy.  We just have to do the best we can to physically prepare ourselves for the worst-case scenario, while at the same time, envisioning that it will be ok.  That’s tough…it’s out of our hands…and often it’s the things that are out of our hands that are the hardest to accept - but it’s the healthiest way.

So this hurricane will be the same.  We are preparing, and not panicking.  We are enjoying the incredibly beautiful calm before the storm.  These times create some of the most peaceful settings for an amazing walk on the beach.

It's a time when people in the community come together -- at grocery stores, at Lowes, on the beach with other workers putting up shutters.... everyone has a kinship - talking about what we are facing...will we be ok - are you staying?  I'm always amazed at those who live on the island that stay.  I respect their decision even if I don’t necessarily agree with it.  People want to be in control -- of their home, of their things, of their destiny.  My opinion again is that we can’t control nature – it has it’s own mind, so I always play it safe.  We put it in God's hands to determine what will be waiting for us when we return, but we’re not going to risk the bodies of our children or pets.

It is a gamble -- what do you do -- protect your "stuff", or leave it all and pray for the best.  Everyone talks about this during these times...  You hear "it's just stuff".  I agree, but it's stuff with memories attached.  I haven't ever bought anything for my home that didn't represent something special – a memory to my family.  Tom and I have purchased everything together - every painting has a meaning, every antique purchased - a story – an adventure.  I'm not alone -- we all attach our hearts to our possessions.  So, although yes, it is just stuff, my heart will be broken if it is taken during this storm.  This "stuff" is irreplaceable in my heart --but new memories will be attached to new "stuff" that I may have to purchase.  So be it.  It is just stuff....

So as I sit out and look at the star filled skies glittering in a way they haven't all summer – with the stars seeming to literally touch the water, I try to imagine what the next few days will hold.  I watch in wonder as my pets behave in a frenetic way they never have.  My dogs are beyond consoling, and my cat will not leave my side.  They say pets can sense these things; I believe it completely.  This hurricane could be the worst my husband or I have ever faced.  It could destroy our beloved home. – or it could just blow over us with lots of wind and rain.  So we prepare, pray to God to be kind, and wait.  It's the waiting...not knowing what will be waiting for you when you return that is so difficult.  So I pray --- Irene be kind, to us, then to the rest of the eastern seaboard - then I open a great bottle of Cab!

Summers End

“Conflicted” would be the word to best describe my feelings this time of year.  On the one hand, I hate to see summer drawing to an end and the kids going back to the school, and on the other hand, I absolutely can't wait to get back to a normal routine.

Summer at the beach is wonderful.  My house is full of kids at all times with tons of laughter and activity.  With that, however, comes about 20 towels to wash a day, a bucketful of sand to clean off my floors, and pillows to constantly readjust on the couches where the kids have lounged.  On a rare occasion that I actually buy “fun” food  (which my kids claim I never do), it is devoured before I even get it out of the bag – with the empty boxes/bags left for me to throw away. Evenings with high school and college kids in the house are filled with  endless late night “events”.  I’m always amazed and delighted when Tom and I venture out to the porch to sit and talk, and the next thing you know – here come the kids -- wanting to hang with us - the   college boys enjoying cigars with Tom.  I LOVE that!  Those kids make me laugh, and my heart bursts from their excitement over the smallest things.   The clean up the next morning is another story…  They think they’ve cleaned everything up, and to their credit they try, but I am left  finding the leftover cans, cigar remains, picking up wet sand filled towels, and taking sheets off all the beds.   Laundry has become synonymous with summer in my world -- Somehow I feel like I'm not alone!

Along with the kid filled activity in the house comes the tourists’ activities on the beach.  Our nice little beach town transforms from a quiet place to a crazy tourist haven in the summer.  The normal 10-minute jaunt from my house to the mainland becomes a stressful 20-minute drive, stuck behind tourists oblivious to the world around them. If there is a fender bender on the bridge – which often happens because tourists like to enjoy the view while crossing and forget to watch the car in front of them -  the wait could be hours.  But I surprise myself when I say that having the tourists take over our island for a couple of months is kind of nice.  It changes the energy.   I love nothing more than to sit on my front porch and watch people check into the homes around me.  You see them literally running out on the decks to see the view, and you can “feel” their excitement.  It makes me appreciate where I am -- helps me realize that I should remember to see the beauty as well.  It will surprise other islanders to hear me say this, but when tourists come to our island, a certain civility takes over.  The beach road becomes a walking path, and you see people walking their dogs, riding their bikes, and talking to one another.  People are so much more open at the beach.  They relax.  I love to garden early in the morning, and the walkers and bike riders often  stop to chat with me. We will start out talking about my flowers or what it’s like to live on the beach, then end up sharing our stories with each other.  Just random, very short term encounters that make my day. 

Our backyard is the beach, which is public, and although not crowded relatively speaking, is more active than usual.  The dolphins sense this, and their trips in front of our house become infrequent.  The pelicans only fly overhead, and you hear many more seagulls screeching, as tourists love nothing more than to throw bread in the air to attract them – ugh.  The bocce ball and cornhole games are in full gear,  dogs are chasing tennis balls in the water, and the kids are screaming with delight as they boogie board and play in the sand.  The nights are full of activity, and this is something I adore about living on the beach.  People grill using charcoal, and the smell brings back childhood memories of my grandparents' lake cottage.  We have season long fireworks shows up and down the beach with the tourists taking their amateur displays seriously.  Other than the stray shell that lands on our pool deck, we love this, and it’s so fun to join the tourists in cheers of appreciation when a good one is shot.  You will hear squeals from kids and adults alike as they carry their flashlights searching for crabs, and laughter echoes throughout as people enjoy cocktails during the evenings.  People are having fun – and that is an amazing sound!

So now, the summer activity has come to a close…  The kids are heading back to school, and a certain calmness has taken over.  You can physically feel the difference.  The waves calm down, and the birds start to sit on the beach again.  I can wake up in the morning, look out for a few minutes and almost always watch a school of dolphins swim by.  The earth rotates to a position where soon we will get both the sunrise and the sunset in front of our house because we face south, and at night I look straight out on the big dipper from my front steps.  It is magical.  It’s almost like our little island is finally exhaling after the intrusion of tourists - saying,  "That was fun, but I'm happy they're gone."

This is my favorite time – when everything gets back to normal.  I can once again schedule my dogs’ walks on the beach around the tide instead of around tourists.  They can have the full extension of their leashes, and the only thing I have to dodge is a fishing line from one of the surf fishermen.   We all become calmer.  I can go out on my deck and blare my music without worrying about disturbing anyone, and I am at peace.  I’m lucky that I’m very comfortable in my times alone.  I love to have people around me; don’t get me wrong – just not all the time.  I’m a true Aquarian… I need my solitude, and life on the beach provides that for me.  I love the summertime here.  My life is chaotic, unscheduled and fast paced in these times, but once summer ends, I go back to normal…. slower…. calmer... and as long as I have my  periodic adventures…..happier.

Gone but not forgotten....

“I just have a hard time dealing with death.”  These are the words my 20 year old daughter said to me with her voice breaking after she came down to console me after I learned of the death of one of my oldest friends.  Those words immediately dried my  tears and kicked me into “Mom gear” – the gear of forgetting your own pain but trying to put it into perspective for your baby.  She was right – death is hard to deal with.  It is  final – and finality is hard to accept.  It’s such a different sense of loss.  You lose a job – you’ll find another,  you lose a boyfriend – another one always comes along, you lose your temper – you can usually make amends.   But death – you will NEVER see that person again while you are living.  That is almost impossible to accept.

That’s when God takes over.  He immediately fills your senses with almost every happy memory you had with that person.  It’s crazy.  The memories just wash over you – things you haven’t thought of in years – things that you had forgotten.  So that’s what I shared with my daughter.  Remember – always remember… and cherish those memories.   Your loved ones live on in your memories.

I’ve lost some of the most influential people in my life when they were too young – - far too young.  I lost my father when he was only 56.  He died of lung cancer.  Yes he smoked (which people always ask me – like that makes it ok) – but he had quit 20 years earlier – cold turkey.  He was a doctor, and he understood his disease – too well.  He tried to beat it and fought like hell, but it was just too tough.   I remember his eyes…. his eyes became so big and pleading.  He asked me if he was a good father; he apologized for not being there for us when we were little (my parents divorced when I was 5)…I assured him he was always there for us – maybe not in person, but he always took care of us.  So in a way – his death healed any guilt or pain either of us had for a father/daughter relationship that was not a fairytale.  We loved each other –I got my senses of humor and adventure from him – I know that.   My brother’s sense of humor is exactly like my dad’s too – even his laugh.

 I’ll never forget hanging up the phone after learning of his death – so final and sad.  That’s when God sent the memories --- I remembered everything all at once – like a blur – I remembered singing  “I see the beacon and the beacon sees me” when the beacon atop Methodist Hospital would come into view as we’d drive to visit my dad during his internship there.   The way he always drove huge Cadillac Eldorado convertibles and would insist on having the top down no matter what.  We’d get ice cream, and he’d pop us in the car and drive off with the top down.  With the wind blowing, my hair would wrap around the ice cream, then wrap around my face – what a mess!   I remember how he taught me poker, and would let me win – letting my winnings accumulate…and just as I was spending the money in my head – he would bet me double or nothing.  I’d bite  and lose everything – over and over.   I always bit.  He would always laugh and say "Geez Lis, I can't believe you fell for it again".  I do not gamble anymore – I credit my dad for that!  He was a brilliant well rounded man and a skilled surgeon, and   whenever I see a doctor in scrubs my heart aches a little.   I  remember….

Learning about the death of my boyfriend from college was devastating.   He was the brightest light I’ve ever met – just a wonderful person.  Although I hadn’t seen him since we’d ended our relationship 25 years earlier– he influenced my entire life..  I admired his approach to life - really trying to see the good in people…really trying to take the high road.  That’s how Steve was.  He always made people feel good – even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it.   He would tell me that it took nothing from him to make others feel special.  So, although I will never be the person Steve was, I try to be a better person.  I try to teach my kids those lessons – don’t gossip, don’t judge – hard to do – but Steve’s influence makes me try.  We never know the whole story – give people a break - and don’t find joy in someone else’s misfortune or poor judgment.  That’s what Steve taught me.  When I learned of Steve’s death I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.  He was only 50 –  he committed suicide.  I don’t question his reasons – he had them- clearly.  I don’t judge him for his action as so many do when it comes to suicide.  It just absolutely broke my heart – for him,  for his family, for his friends – for me.  I joined facebook because of his death, and as I reconnected with old friends,  I had that one very sad nagging feeling – I would never be able to reconnect with Steve – to thank him for making me try to be a better person – for helping me understand how to raise my kids.  He never knew the influence he had on my life.  That’s when the finality of death really hit me – I was completely heartbroken --- and that’s when God rushed in with the memories….  I remembered every specific thing… the way he’d encouraged me to take on challenges I didn’t think I could do – the way he celebrated my success when I actually did it  or consoled me when I didn’t.  I remember his hand turning the knob on the door before we walked into my surprise party on my 19^th birthday – what a strange memory.  I remember the way we’d dance at parties, and how his eyes sparkled with laughter. The beauty of Steve was how he could make every experience – no matter how small – memorable.  I will forever remember that special person, and when I start to get negative, I remember his lessons.  I remember….

And now Mary is gone…. at only 54.  Her battle with ovarian cancer was long and hard fought.  She was my boss and became my cherished friend.  She was my maid of honor when I married my husband Tom, and she was Christine’s Godmother.  I was in her wedding when she married her husband Rich, and I was with her 5 years later when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor and sadly died.   After Rich’s death the rainbows appeared…  She believed it was Rich looking down on her, and I adopted her belief that rainbows show up when you need hope….  I’d questioned God when Mary was diagnosed with cancer, and I questioned him more as he would make her think she’d beaten it finally and it would once again rear it’s ugly head.  But I think his real work was helping her face it with humor and dignity.  I said goodbye to her yesterday, and as everyone talked about how she amazingly battled her disease,  all my mind could do was relive the memories.  I didn’t really hear anyone’s words – I watched the replay in my head of all our times together.  I remembered her beautiful blue eyes that held innocence and mischief at the same time.   I remembered The “Mowgli dance” we used to do every time we’d see each other --- in restaurants – at meetings – we didn’t care.  How she’d always “Swwwing by” for a glass of Chardonnay after work, how she burst into tears when Tom surprised her at her wedding after having surgery the day before for a tumor.  And I remembered her laugh - her beautiful effervescent laugh.   I remember….

So I’ve lost three very influential people in my life – the people who helped shape me.  It’s final – they will never ever come back.  I told Christine that it’s hard and it’s not fair…. but that’s why we have the memories.  God wants that for us.  He takes these people from us for his own reason, even if we don’t agree. Really,  how can we agree – ever?  He has his reasons, and we have to trust that our loved ones are going to have a wonderful eternity.   I believe that those we’ve lost  look down on us after they are gone, and I absolutely believe that God has given them the power to fill our heads with all of those memories.  I believe that the reason some of these memories surprise us is because they aren’t just our own memories – they are our joint memories…and God is pulling us back together through those.  They do live on – they live on in our hearts--- they teach us life lessons that remain with us forever.  So I tell my daughter – remember – always remember……

Not sure about this....

Writing a blog.....is it something I want to do?  I've kicked that around - all the interesting people I meet and conversations I have ....should I share my perspective - ask for other perspectives?  I asked my husband this question just now - his answer -- "Do you want a fried egg?"  haha  - Now that's a whole topic in itself - husbands who listen but don't hear...   I told my daughter I didn't think anyone would be interested in what I have to say.   She told me to write this for me - just for me. So I said, "So it's like a journal?"  and she said - "Yes mom, its a journal that everyone else can read...so be selective".   SO yes, I've decided to start a blog with random topics that maybe only I am interested in.

I used to write for a living...for other people.  My degree is in public relations, and I chose that field because you can influence business, but you are behind the scenes mostly.   That's where I am most comfortable - which will probably surprise many.  I got to the Communications Department in a roundabout way - through a series of positions with different divisions of my company.  I worked my way up the hard way- the right way - sales rep,  Div. Mgr, Rgn Mgr, Training Mgr....but PR was my favorite role - one I could have stayed in forever if not for the hour and 10 minute commute each way and the pull of my family.  I wrote in the voice of the senior executives of my company - which was part of the largest healthcare company in the world.  I wrote their letters to the employees, their presentations to companies, their responses to questions from the media.  I helped them prepare for speeches and presentations, coaching them  on their delivery,  creating the words for them,  and serving it all  up for them to approve or disapprove.  I loved it.  Writing in the voice and style of many people is interesting.  You put yourself in their position and write from their perspective.   You hear or read the words you've written,  you take pride in those words and how they are delivered, but they are actually owned by someone else.

I took on a similar role when I quit working almost 13 years ago to be a full time mom and supporting wife.   This is familiar to all of the wives and moms out there - working behind the scenes while offering support and guidance.  The mom thing is natural - blanketing our kids with love -  sitting  back and watching with pride, offering support as they navigate the waters of their lives - never trying to steal their thunder or impose too much pressure.  The wife thing is a little harder.  I married a very charismatic man - that's what drew me to him - the way he could walk into a room and the energy would change.   My career became that of a  Corporate Wife - supporting my husband's  career goals - which included countless moves, living in separate cities and states, and raising the kids alone.  I became "Tom's wife".  I often find myself saying, "I used to be....."  Trying to remind myself and others that I once had talent and professional goals - that he wasn't a CEO when I married him - and I wasn't a trophy wife - I was a colleague.  But really, does it matter to anyone but me?  Probably not.   So now I  realize that I am still a  PR person - it's just a different corporation I work for now - my family.  My talent isn't past tense - it's just not acknowledged through feedback and performance reviews - it's often not acknowledged at all  --  but  I know it's the most important job I've had.

So - here I go - attempting to convey my own personal thoughts without feeling that I have to represent anyone else for the first time since I was in my early 20s...  Could be interesting.