Riding Out the Storm Alone

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Burn.

I knew I would survive.

Yes, hurricanes scare me, but not this one. Not Dennis. I’ve seen  myself in the future and I’ve talked with my unborn descendants and I know that I’m alive and that the world hasn’t ended for at least another four or five years. And I’m definitely alive and healthy on August 5th of next year.

Flying by Night

So in spite of the frantic fear-mongering of the media five full days before Hurricane Dennis made landfall, I never felt the need to evacuate. It never got as bad as I saw on the major TV  networks  where  reporters  waited  for  the  strongest  wind gusts before jumping in front of  a  camera and whining about the rain pelting their faces.

I’ve been in situations before where my guides told me to gogogogogogogogo! Not this time. They were calm. I was calm. I decided not to leave town with the anxious hordes, who were at their most mongrel-y at  gas  pumps and grocery stores. Had I lived closer to the Gulf of Mexico or on the water, I certainly would have evacuated. But I was several miles inland and they kept whispering in my ear that I was safe, safe, safe. Even when the winds jumped up to a Category 4 hurricane with landfall due a few miles west of my house, I still felt calm. Remarkably so.

I made all the hurricane preparations, taking care of the house and making sure I had everything I needed for the after- math. It was all nice validation for a free and independent Alpha female facing her first major hurricane as a single mom.

I was confident enough in my house’s stability to invite my stranded friends in the area to join me. Surprisingly, a number of my intuitive female friends had decided not to evacuate either—to take care of aging pets, farm animals, last-minute job issues.  Their  wimpy-ass  mates  planned  to  evacuate  without them, so they were welcome to hang with me and listen to the banshee-wailing winds I associated with hurricanes past.

Then one by one, my friends bailed on me. Their mates decided to stay with them after all or they evacuated the evening before landfall.

On the morning before Dennis came ashore in the after- noon, I finally got the intuition to leave and head inland a few more miles to stay  with a friend who had a generator, a pre- evacuated husband, plenty of  room, and a really great Ouija board.

It wasn’t the weather reports. My guides still told me I’d be safe in my home.

It wasn’t the threat of a power loss in 90-degree heat. I

can take the heat, even if I don’t like it.

In the long run, I could have stayed put and not blinked an eye. But at the last minute, I left.

In truth, the decision to evacuate came down to one thing: A storm was coming and I didn’t want to be alone.

Ah, but  it’s  quite  early  in  the  hurricane  season  and probably not the last chance I’ll have to endure a storm alone.