The Big One
It must be difficult to live in a place that is at the center of natural disasters. I think about people who live along the San Andreas or the Gulf Coast. Waiting for the next big one. Looking out for the next Andrew or Katrina.
We don’t have stuff like that in East Tennessee. We’re pretty much disaster-free. Especially up here in the mountains. There may come a tornado once in a while in the lower elevations. Or a flood. The biggest disaster I have ever faced was the Vols’ 2005 football season.
By all accounts you would think I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like to go through your life constantly on alert. And you’d pretty much be right. Nothing has required me to learn stand in the doorway when the earth shakes. Nothing has required me to board up my windows and pray my house is still there when the clouds break. (Although, I have learned that when there is a forecast for more than two inches of snow, get to the grocery store early if you’re in need of bread, milk, or peanut butter.)
But, lately I’m getting some perspective. Although for me, it’s not so much a threat of natural disaster.
I’m watching granny get older everyday, seeing the tiny stumbles becoming tumbles, knowing that little slip of the brain has become a slide. The threat of natural causes.
I figure that’s sort of what it’s like for people in places like San Francisco or Galveston, too. They go through their days, living their lives, doing their thing. But there’s the occasional tremor or the bizarre low tide: the Little Ones that make them consider, at least for a moment, that maybe this time the Little One is really The Big One.
It’s not obvious by the naked eye, but there we are, always on the alert. It’s coming. Sooner or later. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
So, we’re suspended. Passively suspended in some strange state of anticipation, waiting, but at the same time not waiting, for the Big One.
Natural disasters, natural causes…I guess it’s all an act of God.
August 30th, 2007 at 12:20 am
Look up “New Madrid Fault line”
August 30th, 2007 at 12:44 am
LT
IF THERE IS ONE THING BIGGER THAN YOUR DICK!
IT IS YOUR HEART! GOD BLESS U & GRANNY
August 30th, 2007 at 7:29 am
Howdy LT –
Funny enough, you mention 2 places I’ve lived in my life in your post. I went to Texas A&M on Galveston (actually it’s on a little island off the island of Galveston. Now I live in San Francisco. Sure we live with the looming threat of a earthquake, but you can’t just live in fear of it all the time. One learns to be prepared. I have my emergency kit & wind up radio. You just learn to roll with the punches (no pun intended). Great post, LT!
August 30th, 2007 at 8:38 am
Once again, you’re a genius. Maybe not in the way you think of it, but to me the ability to identify common threads of humanity and highlight them so beautifully is genius. You’re now one of my favorite Southern Authors.
August 30th, 2007 at 10:07 am
East Tennessee may not have natural disasters, but it does have a natural wonder, namely you. You have a big kind heart and articulate your throughts and feelings oh so well. I also like your writing style. It makes he laugh and smile, you’ve got unique ability to look at things. You are also an extremely sweet grandson.
August 30th, 2007 at 10:35 am
You really hit the nail on the head with your “big one” post today. I recently had a brother-in-law die suddenly who was only two days younger than me. He was diagnosed with brain cancer on June 21, went through two surgeries and died suddenly on August 1. We are never prepared for “the big one” when it happens.
August 30th, 2007 at 10:37 am
Just treasure every day that is left with her. That is all you can do.
(BTW - What a great writer you are.)
August 30th, 2007 at 10:54 am
I don”t know what to write. This blog is a ‘Big One’. As usual, your kindness and overwhelming love has moved me again.
August 30th, 2007 at 12:14 pm
I was born and raised in California. True, earthquakes are common place and Californians hardly blink and eye in response. A new coworker from out of state experienced his first earthquake while at work. When the earthquake was over he asked in an agitated state, “Now what we do?” I said, “Nothing.” When my mother was in the last stages of Alzheimer’s disease, I could do nothing but wait for the inevitable.
August 30th, 2007 at 1:27 pm
I’m dealing with the same situation Tony. I have both my parents living with me. Mom is 83 and Dad is 90. Sleeping at night but always listening for the sudden fall. Peeping in the bedroom at the crack of dawn to make sure they are still breathing before I head for work. Waiting for the phone call at work that something has happened…..Just make sure she knows you love her. Rest your mind knowing that you are doing your part and let God take care of the rest.
August 30th, 2007 at 3:40 pm
Oh Tony, you are my hero.
August 30th, 2007 at 4:14 pm
Tony,
This posting is extremely timely to me, for personal reasons.
Just yesterday, I was told by my mom, who’s 75, that she’s going in for neurologial tests to find out why she’s having episodes , for the past month, of extreme memory loss. She is having great difficulty, suddenly, in remembering things such as what day it is, where she’s going,etc. My sister became distressed last week, when my mom was up in Seattle visiting her, and my sis noticed that she was constantly repeating herself.
I assured her that it was probably nothing. after all, we all have those spells. But what if it’s something much worse, like a brain tumor? She’s 75. Fit, yes, but who at 75 wants to, or can handle, brain surgery. I’m jumping the gun here, but I’m anxious and upset. She’s in San Jose and I’m in Los Angeles. 400 miles has never seemed so far.
August 31st, 2007 at 7:06 pm
LT… Thanks for posting this… I miss my Mawmaw… I miss her laugh most of all… She always told me I was a city boy at heart, and called me SugarFoot (think she knew?) I would do her yard for her on the weekends… She fed me my favorite lunch, when I was done… Polk Salad, cornbread, and as much sweet tea as I could drink… When she left us, My Mom and Aunts were cleaning out her freezer, and there were containers with my name on them… I would give anything for just one more weekend, one more lunch, to get to talk with her over Polk Salad, cornbread, and a never ending glass of sweet tea… I don’t have to tell you to cherish every moment… I know you already are…
much love from Atlanta
August 31st, 2007 at 8:32 pm
You should spend more time working at becoming a professional writer, than working at writing this blog. It would be our loss for only a short while.
You’re always very touching.
DeGornios Pizza and left over wings. Yummm.
September 1st, 2007 at 12:45 am
I’m with Homer. Tony, you truly are a hero.
Sigh. Damn this distance.