Earthquake #2 for Zen Mama
I was already awake as I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and this time had awoken with (I kid you not) a dream that Paul was leaving me. That’s a first in many, many years. I lay in bed, ready to doze off, when the shaking started. It wasn’t long, 10-15 seconds, maybe? Paul rolled over and I told him “that was an earthquake.” He went straight back to sleep.
Nothing had fallen off the walls and there was no damage to our already messy bedroom, but I convinced myself that I could hear one of our children wimpering and went straight to their room to be the heroic salve to their fears. They had both slept through it. All I could do was recover them with their blankets and do the same for myself.
During the shaking I thought about Haiti, about Chile, about us. What we had this morning was nothing. I knew that. And I know it could well be a warning of bigger things to come. Or it could just be these plates relieving a little bit of pressure. That’s all it was a couple of years ago. Whatever happens, it’s not like worrying about it is going to change anything. So I rolled over and went back to sleep, myself. I have it on good authority that that makes me a native Californian.
At least this time I didn’t say, “wow, that was a pretty big wind, eh?”
PS: When I woke the boys this morning, I told them what had happened (in case someone was talking about it at school.) I explained that it wasn’t very strong, there was no damage, and that both boys had slept right through it. Little Red processed everything he knew about earthquakes from Haiti and Chile, and finally said, “I wonder what the town looks like.” Our town? Los Angeles? Just fine, sweetheart, just fine.
Every child I know slept through it. California babies, every last one of them, off in dreamland while Mother Nature rocked their beds from 20 miles away in Pico Rivera.