I am in the greater Naples, Florida USA area at the moment waiting to get out of the Southwest Florida International Airport prior to Hurricane Irma's expected landing, September 10, 2017. Well, I am not exactly at the airport yet, but I plan to get there later today and to fly out to Michigan where my family summers on Mackinac Island, a resort with historical relevance and only horse drawn carriages and bicycles. I hope you get a chance to visit both Naples and Mackinac Island sometime, each a little piece of paradise on earth.
Before I leave here, I take a few last furtive glances around my home: are the precious family pictures safe; do I have my insurance numbers and identifying documents, have I shut off the water and electricity, or rather, will my housemate? He and a next door neighbor plan to ride it out here.
Decisions of such life and potential risk must be left to each individual. No one can second guess the intuitive and reasoned knowing of another. Such freedom to decide is obvious under such circumstances, a freedom denied when under military obligation. When Irma's imminent landing here in Southwest Naples seemed unquestioned, I immediately sought to evacuate. I went on line to book flights, but even as I was placing my credit card, the flights vanquished, then higher costs and less availability arrived with each refresh. I finally got a confirmed flight 1:45pm Saturday, September 9. I wonder whether the airport will even be open that late. I plan to drive up today, even at the risk of lowering my full tank of gas (stations have already emptied out their fuel supplies).
It is errily still here in Naples, virtually no wind at all, very odd for a seaside gulf community. The day after I landed my ticket out of town, and many are not so fortunate, the weather reports began to see Irma moving more off to the East coast, hitting closer to Fort Lauderdale and Miami. My prayers go to all those in its path. We are one humanity and at times like this our mutual survival and safety is top in all our minds. We speak to people we do not know. We check in on neighbors; we reach out to one another. Oh, sure, we place our own safety and that of our own family first--a being human condition to be sure; but nevertheless in our deeper communal humanity, we understand no one --to paraphrase Romans 8:32--"...neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from (love)." Take care, my beloved ones as each face, every finger, all the hairs on your head I hold precious in my heart for all time.
Whatever comes next, no one can say. We will each face that moment of regret; nonetheless, forgive. We will see the dark and the light; hold compassion. We will laugh. We will cry. We will fight. We will surrender. Until, when it is all said and done, regardless, we accept we have each done our very best. And, in the end, we are simply grateful.MJOrr.com/Home I AM, Marsha Jane Orr, MS, MA, MEd
