After crawling out from under the table, I checked my watch and calculated six or seven hours would pass before my children would wake up on the other side of the world, learn of the earthquake, and suffer through simultaneous thoughts of "Is Mom okay?" and "Did she leave me anything?" In six or seven hours I might be able to master a calm and soothing tone of voice and polish off that darn book.
Then I glanced at my computer. Facebook was on the screen and my youngest child had just posted a message to his buddies.
College Boy: Man, that earthquake was crazy. Wish I was there to experience it.(Johnathon Bures and 3 others like this.)
"What is he doing up in the middle of a Virginia night?" I fumed just as the first aftershock sent me racing back to the table's shelter. That aftershock was almost as interminable as the earthquake. By the time the ground stopped shuddering, my thoughts had been transformed into "Thank God he inherited my Grandpa Sykes's nightowl gene. There's an inexplicable comfort to be derived from sharing this experience with a loved one who is not at risk of suffering bodily injury from said experience." I stumbled back to the computer.
Peevish: I am so glad you are NOT here because it is very, very scary. Much as I don't want to die alone, I would really prefer that you outlive me by at least 50 years. (no one liked this; I hate it when that happens.)
College Boy: Call me! (Johnathon Bures likes this.)
Summoning up the calmest and most soothing tone of voice available to me under the circumstances, I placed the call. I wanted to make him laugh. My memory is a bit muddled, but I believe I succeeded.
As it turns out, he's on Spring Break from classes right now. So it was okay he was up so late. Not that he isn't up just as late when he's not on Spring Break.
Golden Girl and Texas Star subsequently informed me that College Boy took it upon himself to alert all six of his siblings, including the one he's met only twice in his 18 years on earth, that I had survived a natural disaster which none of them knew had occurred.
The Ancient Mariner and I derive great comfort from knowing there is a communication mechanism in place to spread the news when one of us eventually kicks the bucket. We are quite shocked, however, to find that the child who didn't even know how to pick up a telephone until two years ago would actually know how to activate that system. I certainly would not have known how to reach all seven kids as quickly as he did.
I decided to leave that book to my sister.
From the land of still March 13, I am so glad to hear that you are okay. Life must be terrifying right now. It's really hard to see the pictures and I know the reality is much, much more graphic. Bob is itching to be working on the relief effort as he was Fleet Surgeon during the Indonesian tsunami. Alas, he is stuck trying to get the services to cooperate in his enlisted training efforts. He must assist in a more spiritual manner this time! Stay close to that table!!!
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