I let out a laugh when I heard that the storm was coming this week, a tropical storm named Kristine. Of course she’s coming now, the same week my husband is in the hospital. Of course she and I have the same name. I’m now in a literal and figurative when-it-rains-it-pours-situation. It’s been hilarious seeing the news headlines:

PH Braces for Tropical Depression Kristine

Tropical Storm Kristine Slightly Intensifies

Hurricane Kristine, Strengthened Even More

It feels like someone’s playing a joke on me, or like the headlines are narrating my inner thoughts. I didn’t mind that last headline so much though, God knows I would very much like to be strengthened even more.

The storm meant my kids would be staying home from school for a couple of days. I know that losing those few hours to myself is a ridiculous complaint in comparison to what people lose during our tropical storms. But I’m going to ask for a little bit of grace here: they are the few hours in the day when I feel free to think about no one else but myself. No interruptions, no negotiations, no one else occupying my brain space. Nothing has been normal the last couple of months, and I need some kind of routine, some kind of pattern I can use to ground my scattered mind. But I guess right now I am in the valley of scrambled-eggs-for-brains, and I’m just going to have to breathe in and suck it up and hold my loose parts together for a little longer.

This is the part of sickness in the family that I wasn’t prepared for, the fact that life just keeps on happening. Sometimes I want to yell can we please have a moment to catch up? Can’t time stand still for just a little bit? It’s like trying to organize a giant bookshelf that’s rolling down a hill. I’m running along with it, trying to alphabetize all these volumes, but my calves are burning and I’m breathing heavy and there’s a searing pain in my chest. The sweat is rolling down my forehead and into my eyes. I can barely see what I’m doing, but I have to try and keep up with this rogue bookshelf, or else I’ll lose it- the books, the momentum, my sanity.

In a couple of days, Niki will be able to leave the hospital and continue his isolation at home. The doctor has been strict about his timeline – he needs to be separate for three weeks after he’s discharged. Doc, isn’t it only two weeks? I asked. He smiled at me, but in that way that teachers do for dumb toddlers who don’t know better. Three weeks, he reiterates. And so we’re creating a space at home that will make this as seamless as it can be; putting in place rules for the kids to follow so they don’t get exposed to radiation.

As typhoon Kristine whistles and whooshes outside, threatening to destroy people’s homes and property, I have my own typhoon Kristine on the inside, threatening to destroy my peace. She’s the storm I’ve been working so hard to quell the last few years, a sinister force that brings with it gales of fear and anxiety. I thought I had put her to rest, but it seems like she was only sleeping, looking for the smallest sliver of weakness to wreak havoc on my mind again, pulling out books I’ve already put in place. This time though, I’m not going to let the winds dictate my direction. This is a battle I am unwilling to lose.

The storm is supposed to be out of the Philippine Area of Responsibility by Friday. Coincidentally, my husband is also supposed to be home by Friday. A literal and figurative this-too-shall-pass situation. I’m hoping by that time the news headlines of my life will be:

Typhoon Kristine Wasn’t Really So Bad After All

Severe Tropical Storm Kristine Changed Path and Destroyed Nothing

Hurricane Kristine, Strengthened Even More, But In A Good Way

I’m realizing that in the same way we are asked to stay home to be safe during severe storms, we need to rest and recuperate during spiritual storms as well. Strengthen the foundation, secure the battens, and seal all the cracks where water may seep in. For me that means setting down the small stuff and prioritizing the things that actually matter. I need to choose which titles deserve the space on my shelf, and maybe some books don’t need to be there anymore. In the meantime I’ll keep running, placing books and organizing and alphabetizing. Hopefully really soon, I’ll find myself rolling to a stop on a level field, where the sky is blue and the wind is calm, and finally take a nice, long, uninterrupted nap.