Thanks, Matt
My Mom taught me to always write thank you notes. Hand write them. Consider this handwritten.
Dear Hurricane Matthew,
We owe you a thank you, for a lot of reasons.
We now know how to prepare for a massive hurricane. For four days we were warned of your impending arrival, a gig I know well having spent a decade in television news. Comparisons were made to Andrew. "Matthew will be the largest hurricane to hit Florida in 10 years". Even the natives were restless. But we were ready dammit. When you see video of lines at the gas station, or empty grocery shelves, it's real. It was so real in our suburban oasis in South Florida.
But thanks to you Matt, we know how to close our hurricane shutters. We know when the lines start at the gas station and when the grocery stores run out of water. We now have the things we need should a hurricane hit next week. Provided we don't drink the bottles of water or spend the cash. So that's cool, thank you.
Also, thank you for skirting around us and not hitting us at all. Thanks for letting us keep the lights and air conditioning on. Thanks for not even really causing a disturbance despite warnings of impending doom. Thanks for leaving us well enough alone.
Most of all, thank you for the time. My parents place is an hour north and east of us. You were going to hit just north of us and obviously the closer to the water you are, the more likely you are to be affected. We are about 15 miles from the water. My parents are much closer so with a little prodding, they joined us in the burbs. We hunkered down together. We played Uno and watched hours of ridiculous hurricane coverage just waiting for it to hit. We Facetimed with family and cooked. Mom's on a new vegan diet (cancer likes meat and sugar and all things bad) so we tried some new recipes out. We walked around the block a bunch of times right before we thought you were on the way because, you know, cabin fever. We drank the good wine out of the good crystal. We played Pie Face. We laughed. We just sat on the couch together with nowhere to go and nothing to do. It was wonderful. Everyone slept. Your winds were quiet and your rains calming. We woke up to a dozen coconuts in the yard and sunshine. Even got to go to Marshall's with Mom and Emerson (my oldest daughter) for some sussies. She's teaching Emerson about Marshall's. How you can't go looking for anything specific. It's not the store for that. You go to Marshall's just to go, to look, see what they have. Treasure hunt. The stuff she taught me.
Thank you Matthew. For the respite. The break from the C word. The time together where nothing else matters. It was just what we needed.
Maybe we are slowly learning how to 'live with cancer'. Maybe. Sure wish we didn't have to.
Much obliged,
Corey
Dear Hurricane Matthew,
We owe you a thank you, for a lot of reasons.
We now know how to prepare for a massive hurricane. For four days we were warned of your impending arrival, a gig I know well having spent a decade in television news. Comparisons were made to Andrew. "Matthew will be the largest hurricane to hit Florida in 10 years". Even the natives were restless. But we were ready dammit. When you see video of lines at the gas station, or empty grocery shelves, it's real. It was so real in our suburban oasis in South Florida.
But thanks to you Matt, we know how to close our hurricane shutters. We know when the lines start at the gas station and when the grocery stores run out of water. We now have the things we need should a hurricane hit next week. Provided we don't drink the bottles of water or spend the cash. So that's cool, thank you.
Also, thank you for skirting around us and not hitting us at all. Thanks for letting us keep the lights and air conditioning on. Thanks for not even really causing a disturbance despite warnings of impending doom. Thanks for leaving us well enough alone.
Most of all, thank you for the time. My parents place is an hour north and east of us. You were going to hit just north of us and obviously the closer to the water you are, the more likely you are to be affected. We are about 15 miles from the water. My parents are much closer so with a little prodding, they joined us in the burbs. We hunkered down together. We played Uno and watched hours of ridiculous hurricane coverage just waiting for it to hit. We Facetimed with family and cooked. Mom's on a new vegan diet (cancer likes meat and sugar and all things bad) so we tried some new recipes out. We walked around the block a bunch of times right before we thought you were on the way because, you know, cabin fever. We drank the good wine out of the good crystal. We played Pie Face. We laughed. We just sat on the couch together with nowhere to go and nothing to do. It was wonderful. Everyone slept. Your winds were quiet and your rains calming. We woke up to a dozen coconuts in the yard and sunshine. Even got to go to Marshall's with Mom and Emerson (my oldest daughter) for some sussies. She's teaching Emerson about Marshall's. How you can't go looking for anything specific. It's not the store for that. You go to Marshall's just to go, to look, see what they have. Treasure hunt. The stuff she taught me.
Thank you Matthew. For the respite. The break from the C word. The time together where nothing else matters. It was just what we needed.
Maybe we are slowly learning how to 'live with cancer'. Maybe. Sure wish we didn't have to.
Much obliged,
Corey
And this is how you survive the unthinkable. Keep your eyes and heart open. I love this post and love you!
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