Compassionate friends, cool neighbors

Compassionate friends and cool neighbors make the heat easier to bear
By Margi Washburn

As I write this on a sultry Thursday morning, I remember that the weather forecast called for cooler temps, a refreshing change from the mind-melting heat wave we've been stuck in for too many days.

I'm not mad, just disappointed. My hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and the air conditioning we're using is making some power company stockholders very happy.

Like many of you, our power went out at three in the morning today and it must have come back on while I was out enjoying someone else's cool air. None of us knew exactly why others had power and we didn't; we were too tired from trying to sleep in stuffy houses.

Did you ever notice how eerily quiet it is when there is no electricity humming through our homes? With overcast skies, our house offered little in the way of light so we made our way carefully from room to room.

On this day, there was no coffee for breakfast. Actually, there was no breakfast either but many of us will gladly settle for a cup of joe. We didn't want to open the refrigerator or freezer and risk spoiling the food inside.

Hubby found it light enough to shave his face, and using the shower wasn't a problem. But the absence of light has a profound effect on a person if the situation doesn't reverse itself quickly. I feel a bit embarrassed to say that I walked the dog, fed her, then left to find a more pleasant place to be.

I have to admit, though, that we live in a great neighborhood. Those on either side of us are some of the nicest folks we've known, and the most understanding. On Saturday I decided to mow our lawn at eight in the morning and no one complained. We have a push mower and a huge yard, so I broke it up into sections because the heat got to me after about 20 minutes and I would have lost my breakfast if I'd had any.

The next day I decided to try and mow the rest even earlier, at a little after seven. That was a bit nerve-wracking because I was afraid that was going to wake a few people, but I mowed as quickly as I could. The heat wasn't nearly as bad at that hour, and having good neighbors made the job easier.

Experiences like these, being without power and having good neighbors, makes me wonder about those who aren't as fortunate. I made some calls and found out that there is no state law or company policy that prohibits folks from having their power turned off for nonpayment during the summer. That scares me.

As kids, we got used to losing our power nearly every July and August. The bucket truck would rumble down the street and we'd be making trips for ice cubes to put in an ice chest to keep the bologna and margarine cool. Mom, sis and I slept by the glow of the street lights and we learned to appreciate the silence.

It's not an adventure today, though, with so many 90-plus degree days and only one official cooling center. I can't thank the hospital enough for offering their place, and I wish more would have jumped at the chance to relieve those who were suffering.

That does bring to mind the phone call I received from a friend who was worried about us and wanted to let us know we were welcome to come and stay with her if we needed to. She contacted a dozen people to extend the same invitation; that's an example of compassion we could all learn from.

I'm guessing that every once in a while you imagine what you'd do if you won the lottery. Hubby and I do that, but I have this one dream that never changes. I would find all of those who needed help keeping their power on and I would pay their bills. I would do it for the little ones who have no choice in the matter, and I would do it for the elderly who are torn between paying spiraling power bills or out-of-control prescription costs.

My thoughts turned to these folks during this too-quiet morning when it was impossible to sleep, and I had the opportunity to put myself in the place of someone in Kewanee without power because they couldn't pay their bill. Maybe the weather will change and they can get some relief from a cool breeze. It won't change the fact that they have no fans, air conditioning, refrigerator, television, radio, washer, dryer or anything else they rely on to live a normal life.

But as I learned when I was a little girl, you take what you can get and pray that someone will come along and see that you won't have to wait too long for what you need.