Far away places

Last night at 11pm, Adrian's number showed up on my phone. Being half asleep I didn't realize how confused I really was.

I didn't put it together that she shouldn't be calling me and certainly not from her US phone number.

The conversation went a little bit like this:

"Hi, Adrian" I say in my sleepy, trying to pretend I know what is going on, voice.

"Katie, I am calling to let you know there has been an earthquake here but we are ok"
She matter-of-factly states in far too calm of a voice for me to be alarmed or clued in to the severity of the situation.

"Ok...thanks for letting me know." Really confused why she felt compelled to call, it isn't like her to check in.

"Will you let everyone else know we are ok?"

"Sure. Thanks for calling, love you guys"

"I gotta go."

She hangs up as I hear Sydney ask in the background, "Mommy, what is happening? what's happening?"


I dutifully sent the text message to Heather and Amy informing them of the news and back to sleep I went.


Fast forward one hour through my weird and restless dream to Heather calling me:

"Katie, what did she say?"

"She said there was an earthquake but they were ok..." again, asleep and confused.

"You need to wake up and watch the news"

"I can't, we got rid of TV. You shouldn't be watching the news either, there is nothing you can do, I am sure she is fine."

"Katie, this is a disaster. I can't get in touch with her. I have tried calling but there is no answer, do you have another phone number for her?"

Impatient with her and frustrated she is over-reacting, "No, Heather. She will call when she can. I will talk to you in the morning"


Fast forward 3 hours through more really strange and restless sleep:

I woke up thinking about the fact that Heather couldn't get through and thought if she really was that panicked, I should give it a try.

I called Adrian's US number and got a weird, old school, disconnected sound you hear in horror movies which makes me feel panicky, of course. I try Skype with no luck and go back to sleep.


Fast forward to 5:45am when NPR comes on the alarm clock:

"The largest earthquake in Japan's history kills hundreds and causes a Tsunami..."

What have I done? Why didn't I wake up to talk to her? What if that was the last chance to talk to her and I screwed it up?

Where will they go? Who will help them? They don't speak the language, they have no resources... They must be so scared and I am helpless...

With all these thoughts shooting around in my head, it was too much. I started to cry the most honest, pathetic sobs I have cried in years. The kind of sobs that come from so deep, it shakes every part of you.

I don't think Adrian or her family are dead. I am not even sure they are in significant physical danger. What I am certain of is they are too far away for any of us to help them, if they are. The distance is too much. We don't have a phone number for her, we don't know where they live or how to reach out to them.

The only thing you can really do in a crisis is gather your people, be each others strength and carry on. But her people are not there to surround her so they stand on their own. And carry on.

It just sounds so impossibly lonesome and scary and that is the source of my tears. When I lived in New York on 9/11, I spent the most lonesome night of my life safely tucked in a bed, 40 blocks from ground zero. I felt completely helpless and isolated. There were no phones, the streets were empty but the ominous buzz of emergency vehicles coming from every direction would not let you forget that this night was not like any other.

I keep thinking of how disorienting a dark city can be and how eerily quiet it is without the hum of power and as much as you want the sun to rise, it is frightening to think what it might reveal.

My heart aches for them and I am trying not to be selfish about my sadness or fear because I know it is not mine to hold. It is a poignant and life changing time for so many others and I am powerless to relieve the people I love from whatever stress or fear they may be experiencing.

I would like them to come home. Not because it is safer here but because if we are going to face danger, we can do it together.