A few days ago, we woke up to a loud thunderstorm with huge lightning flashes. Majestic and scary sight with a dark and brooding sky to match. At some point we realized that the basement might get flooded given the vigor of the downpour. It was already late by then and we spend the next couple of hours to contain the water. Then just as suddenly as it had started, the rain was gone and the sun came out shining bright. If we had not been at home or if the flash flood had lasted much longer, we would have had a big problem on our hands. This is a well known problem but the solutions are not quite smart and connected as one would hope. Any number of water leak detectors exist in the market and there are a variety of pumps that can take care of a flooded basement but as with many problems in the world, you have access to the pieces of the puzzle but have to work out your own solution.
The event brought to mind Mrs. T with whom had lived as a house guest for a few months decades ago. During my stay, there had been a flash flood and her basement was flooded. Recently widowed at the time, Mrs. T started by feeling overwhelmed - she was very capable of taking care of things around the house including minor repairs but in the midst a bigger more sudden event she clearly missed having Mr. T around. I was too green to be any use to her so she proceeded on her own.
I recall her being gone into the basement for the rest of the day, trying to drain out the water. She'd come back out periodically, talk about progress made or not made. Getting hold of her son proved problematic that day even though he lived only one county over. The next morning, it was a gorgeous summer day, her son's fancy convertible was parked in the driveway. Mom had made him his favorite tuna salad sandwich which I found him eating in the kitchen.
We talked about the flooded basement, he dispensed some wisdom that was far too removed from my life and experience at the time to mean anything. Mrs. T seemed to find value in whatever he had to say. He had checked out the basement and deemed all was well there. He left after a while and we carried on with the rest of our day. It was still the weekend and in other circumstances we may have taken a walk or run errands but Mrs. T was physically and emotionally drained from the previous day.
I remember thinking how differently that weekend might have been for all concerned if Mr. T had been alive. For one thing, I would not have been present to witness her distress - she had started to rent out her spare bedroom because she was really disliked staying alone. That weekend, despite my presence and her son coming by, Mrs. T was truly alone and it was plainly evident that it hit her hard.
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