Summer of Pestilence and Plague

There's a great scene in the movie Fried Green Tomatoes where Ruth has just given birth to her baby, and Idgie is spreading the news:

Idgie: It's a boy!
Reverend Scroggins: I think a little prayer of thanksgiving would be in order.
Idgie (jubilant): God dammit to hell, son of a bitch, she did it! Here's to Ruth!

Swap "It's the first day of school!" for the first line and put my name in for Ruth at the end, and you have some idea of my mood after dropping off my children at their respective schools on Monday morning.

I will always refer to May-September 2017 as the summer of pestilence and plague. It started in May with a ride in an ambulance which set the wheels in motion for not one but two cardiac procedures in June and July; we moved (different house, same neighborhood); one family member who shall remain nameless had not one but two separate infestations of lice over the course of eight weeks; two out of three children had impetigo in July; and there was an eclipse and an epic hurricane in August. It truly felt biblical at times.

I had a whole blog post written about my heart condition, but then Hurricane Harvey sat on top of us for four days (or however long it was; I lost count), and it all just felt like too many words. I can sum it up with the following, which kind of applies to the hurricane experience, too:

• Coming face to face with your mortality is frightening and freeing in equal proportions;
• The people in my life love me in ways that make me feel more alive and less afraid;
• I have felt like the luckiest woman in the world most days since.

Our city and region will be reeling from the effects of the hurricane for a long time. On a more personal level, the lessons from the summer of pestilence and plague will continue to sink in as we get some distance and perspective.

For today it's enough to know we are on the other side, and life rolls on. Thanks be to God.

And also: God dammit to hell, son of a bitch, we did it! Here's to us!

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