|Bethanne Hill Clay County, AL Acrylic, 2003 Best of Show ~ Meridian Museum of Art|
It has been thirty-one hours since I stepped out of the shower, slipped and slowly, slowly, I'm falling but it's gonna be okay, ouch my toe, why is water shooting from the floor.
A me-made geyser came from a small hole in the linoleum of the bathroom.
I blindly reached for the turn-off valve, found it, felt some instant but delusional relief because in my hand was the piece now detached from the water it was supposed to turn off. That's when I knew I had to stop the water from coming into the house, and that's when I knew I had no idea where outside the shut off valve was. That's when I called Mom, and with the urgency of the house is gonna die I said, "Send Dad."
There have been several things that have happened in the past thirty-one hours, none of which even whispers of the suffering caused by the earthquake in Nepal. How dare I even reference it when talking about my little problem of being without water for a day. Being with a guy who not only stopped the geyser but then went under the house and fixed the problem.
In my little, holy shit what do I do? moment I received the tiniest, should not even write about it experience of what it is like to have an infrastructure glitch and be without indoor plumbing or drinking water in an otherwise solid structure.
I had electricity and shelter and clothing and someone to help me and access to their water if needed. It was stupid but scary to be that vulnerable and realize how much in that instant I was lacking in being able to take care of myself. Though it is frightening to need another human in such a small way, it brings tears to my eyes when I consider how much I appreciate having that guy and that type of help in my life.
I am grateful that Aunt Dottie's heart is good, I have clean drinking water being piped into my home, and there is a relief effort going on for a people whose world has come apart.