For Things Ordinary, Give Thanks

Dark mornings are not great ways to start a day, but what’s the alternative? Anna and I sat at the kitchen table reading, savoring the first cup of coffee when, blip! everything went dark. No light, no refrigerator sound, only the ticking of the battery-operated wall clock shattered the indigo silence. Neither of us spoke, it was an almost terrifying experience, first thought, “How long will this last. What will we do if…” Blip! Light suddenly bathed the kitchen. The coffee pot started blinking, the clock on the stove went to “12:00” flashing on and off, we looked at each other and normalcy returned.
That sample of life in the dark made me thankful for that simple, silent, but oh, so necessary thing called electricity. So many of our fellow New Jersey residents are living the hell that the two of us only experienced momentarily, it makes me almost ashamed. Even in the worst of Sandy, we had power. Yes, it dipped a few times, but then returned not a minute later.
What must it be to have your life put on hold, not only with no power, but knowing your home is either heavily damaged or outright destroyed, and you cannot even be there with it? At times such as this, to say we are thankful for the simple things is a magnificent understatement.
If that hurricane had, at nature’s whim, cut into land even a hundred miles south, it could well be us who would be living in shelters, maybe in motels in Seaside Heights of Asbury Park. Who knows?
Every day, a new page seems to be turned as we learn about the tragedy that has befallen a family due to that storm. They were every bit as we are, had houses and jobs and cars, places of employment and places of worship, places to shop and bank and relax. In a blink of the eye, it’s been all wiped away, no less tragic than when a tornado will touch down, tear through half a town, suck homes and vehicles into the sky yet leaving the houses on either side untouched.
Many of the displaced are being sheltered among us in Cape May County, many in Wildwood, where motels offer respite from the cold, hot showers, beds, microwave ovens and a place out of the weather.
Recently, my grandson Jason and I enjoyed a dinner at Pizza Hut in Wildwood. The room was rather busy. As I gazed around the room, many of those folks dining on pizza and sipping soda sported ball caps with NY (Yankees) and sweatshirts that proclaimed Giants. Hmmm.
A toddler in the booth behind Jason stood up, looked at me, pointed his tiny finger and declared, “Pop Pop!” His dad sheepishly remarked, “Today, everyone is Pop Pop.” We all had to laugh.
Honestly, I did not think anything more of it until, riding home, it hit me between the eyes: They are folks from up north living here as they wait and hope and pray for a home that may be no more. What would I do in their shoes? How would the bills get paid? What of the rotting food in the refrigerator back home up north? What of the treasures from your life, worth nothing in an insurance report, but so valuable to a family: A last letter from a parent, a child’s first scribbling in crayon, a memento from a foreign place, all gone, ruined, perhaps moldy and covered in sand and wetness.
Once again, the people of Cape May County have rallied to help as best they can. There are cardboard boxes scattered around the county where foodstuffs may be placed. There are collections seeking the necessaries of life for young displaced refugee families, diapers, infants clothing, toddler wear, men’s and women’s clothing in all sizes, socks, underwear, everything that have and so often don’t consider important.
Imagine confronting the cold of November with but a sweatshirt, or perhaps only one pair of thin socks worn in a pair of shoes that are still drying out.
While there are stories of need, there are other stories of good folks who are reaching out to do what they believe needs to be done. That’s what makes our county great.
Tomorrow, as I sit at the Thanksgiving feast, with an array of sustenance set before me, I will be grateful. I will be so thankful for not only that, which Providence places before me and my family, but for all those “simple” things, seemingly so small and insignificant they are easy to overlook, to forget. I’ll be thankful for electric and LP gas, for those who deliver those services.
For clothes that are clean, for easy chairs to relax, for sight to see my loved ones, ears to hear my grandchildren laugh and play.
These things and so many more, which could, with a bit of thought, fill this entire newspaper ten times over, are things for which I must offer humble thanks to my Creator for the bounty he has bestowed on me, on us. Happy Thanksgiving!