This entry reminds me of how bad my PTSD (from this event) used to be - the dark used to do me in.
July 27, '98
I'm sitting on the couch in the family room with Michelle - writing by candlelight. What an eventful day.
First, when Mr. O got to the office this morning, he found that it had been broken into and both the computer and printer had been stolen. He had just taken it down on Wednesday and it must have happened Saturday night. They didn't take the fax machine-that was brand new. I doubt he'll ever put another computer in there.
Then he decided to drive up to Orem to pick up a job, but he got a late start. He left around noon or 1 PM. He called me from the shop and wasn't sure if he was going to come home tonight or sleep at my parents. Anyways, the line went dead while we were talking. It turns out that all the circuits are busy in northern Utah, I can't even reach him on his cell phone. I've pretty much figured out that he isn't coming home tonight.
It's getting close to 1 AM. I was sitting here watching TV and waiting for him to come home when the power went out. Since we live in the country, it was pitch black. It gave me quite a panic. I had to crawl on my hands and knees to find Michelle (she was playing across the room).
My phone was dead because it's a cordless and depends on electricity, and the moon isn't up so it's very dark. At first, I took Michelle and went out on the front porch to let my eyes adjust in the starlight. Then I gathered enough nerve to go look in the kitchen for the cell phone. No luck. I knew it was there, I just couldn't feel it. I opened a few curtains to let more light in - it didn't help much. I tried again, letting my hands roam over the counter like Mary Ingalls, I still couldn't feel it, but then I tipped something over. What a blessing, it was the flashlight.
I found the cell phone and called Mr. O's mom (the only other person I know who'd also be up so late) to help calm myself down. It helped a bit. She talked to me while I found some candles and lit them. Ahh, light!
I nursed Michelle and put her to sleep wedged into some pillows on the couch. I still can't reach Mr. O, I'm sure he's sleeping soundly in the guest room at my parent's house. This means I won't get any sleep tonight and I've got to get to St. George 45 minutes earlier tomorrow. What timing! I can't believe it. Something really good must be going to happen soon to balance all this out. (dramatic, much?)
** I then went on to ramble for another page about little things the kids had done that day and ended with: The power is out , Mr. O's not here, and I can't reach him. I think I'll call his mom again if the power doesn't kick on again, soon.
***During this experience, my mind kept flashing back to this old movie, Wait Until Dark. I felt blind in the darkness and started conjuring up other people in the room with me, never mind that I lived out in the country in one of the safest little towns ever (and that there had been no one there before the lights went out). It was dark, oppressively dark and my mind took right on over. I swear my heart felt, sounded just like it does in this trailer.