I swear, we have a new cat. I will always grieve Jack and remember him with such great fondness for his sweet ways with us- his head boops and the way he'd pat us with his paw when he wanted more love, his noisy purr, his funny little meows- but Maurice is absolutely changed without the constant threat of ambush and danger every second of her life. She has slept with us every night since the night of the hurricane and she is always still right there with me when I wake up. I think she gets up when Glen does and follows him to the kitchen but when she's taken care of whatever business needs taken care of, she comes and gets back in bed with me, then waits for me to get out of the bathroom and follows me to the kitchen to get my coffee. She invites our petting and mostly does not even try to scratch or bite us.
Mostly.
She'll pretend-bite me and then she'll lick the place where she set her teeth on my skin. It's a little scary but not like it used to be when we knew for sure that if she acted like she was going to bite us, she was going to bite us.
So I've been enjoying watching this metamorphose take place, seeing how she's learning to trust, to not be as quick to dart and run at any sort of sudden movement, to be able to relax and be calm.
It really is like we have a new cat.
I haven't gotten any real news about the Black Mountain family today. I've been almost obsessively watching videos of what's going on up in that area and in Tennessee and it's heart-wrenching and it's horrifying and it's insane and it's unbelievable. That's the word I keep using. Unbelievable.
In so many of the videos, people are standing there saying things like, "Oh my god, the house is moving," and sure enough an entire house with water halfway to the roof just comes loose from its moorings and slowly starts to drift as if it had suddenly taken a notion to go visit other lands. Same with trucks and busses and cars. I think that the people who are witnessing all of this are having their entire perception of reality shattered. Houses are supposed to stay where they are built. Busses are supposed to stay where they are parked unless moved by a driver. Bridges are supposed to span creeks and little rivers. Roads are supposed to continue on to the next town and the next and the next. The grocery store is supposed to be where you left it. The trees are supposed to stay where they were planted. The giant boulders are supposed to remain seated where they have been cradled for hundreds if not thousands of years. The creeks and rivers are supposed to stay within the confines of their beds. Your yard is supposed to stay in your yard. Waterfalls are supposed to amaze and delight, not shoot out with such force that trees and rocks are taken out, shaken loose, and sent on their way down the river.
How can human minds even accept the reality of any of this?
As I said, unbelievable. The trauma of the survivors is going to be with them forever. I think of the children and how their world has so suddenly and without warning completely come undone.
Well, aid is getting through, I see, but there are so many people unaccounted for and so many people who need food, water, medications, oxygen, shelter, and all the things that humans need just to live.
Meanwhile, here in Lloyd, the power came back on around 9:30 last night. "Hot damn!" I texted my across-the-street neighbor. I am sure everyone slept better. I saw Tom today as his power was not yet back on and he needed to charge his phone. He is sleeping in his Tiny House and it did fine during the storm, staying right where it had been set and tied down. He said that he'd seen power trucks on his road and was hoping that they'd get his electricity back on soon.
I worked in the front yard, picking up sticks and branches.