I'm sure you'll remember the moment in which I slid back the shower curtain to reveal "the face."
The moment the lights went out in South Dakota...well...let's just say a few things went through my mind.
First. Annoyance. Did someone actually come into this public bathroom, hear running water and shut off the lights? No way!
Second. Realization of utter and complete silence save the running water and my increasingly deep breaths.
Third. Remembrance of moments of movie horror. The monster or sharpened-hook wielding, maniac always strikes directly after or during a moment of complete and utter silence.
Fourth. AUGH! SERIAL KILLER IN THE BATHROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I'm all ALONE!
Fifth. Hey was that lightning? And hail?
Sixth. I've got a wooden door and a nifty little latch. Hatchet man is going to have to make some noise to get through it. And I know some serious self-defense moves.
Seventh. That is lightning, hail, thunder and impressive rain.
Eighth. Ha. No Norman Bates after all.
Ninth. Hope the water holds up so I can rinse.
Hope you enjoyed your visit to my little nightmare.
And yes, it was a storm that took the lights, and no, I didn't run out of water, and no one turned up missing though one of the campers looked suspiciously like Norman's mother.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.