It’s oddly peaceful here in Kapoho, only miles away from the explosive fountains of lava. The only sounds are birds. Not one car went by until 7:30 a.m., highly unusual in our neighborhood of mainly retirees that get up with the sun. Our neighborhood is empty and all but the most adventurous tourists have gone home or to other parts of our beautiful island.
We are at a loss for what to do with our time. Does cleaning or fixing the house even make sense right now with the future so uncertain? We are still checking in with news websites and social media but are also actively trying to conquer our anxiety and bring it down to a healthier level. Cooking makes more sense than cleaning, and baking brings comfort, so I have decided to make a batch of buttermilk blueberry muffins to share with the few remaining neighbors. Once I am able to focus on the recipe, and it takes a few minutes before I can commit to it, the fragrance of the cinnamon and nutmeg instantly calms me.
Our suitcases are next to the bed. Yesterday I left mine open and dropped items into it throughout the day. I am sure it is a weird assortment of clothes that don’t go together, because I am having a hard time committing to serious packing. Our many photo albums, memories of our 25 years in Hawaii, are in boxes near the front door. Other than those and our important papers, we are ready to go if it comes to that. I will, as well, be taking my jewelry and the Sabbath candles, though thankfully there is no need to sew the jewels into my clothing as my Eastern European ancestors had to when fleeing from persecution. As I type this I realize that no matter what happens we will be okay, more than okay actually, since we have the support of our family and the many relatives and friends that have reached out over the past few days.
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