My heart goes out to the lost souls in Haiti.
Of those who survived, those who did not and those whose fate is still unknown.
Their plight particularly touches my heart.

Living on a fault line with the trepidation of ‘the big one’ in California always comes to the forefront of my mind when we have a shaker or when a significant one releases so much damage and heart break anywhere in the world.

Growing up, I had heard my mom recall the rolling sidewalks in 1933 in Long Beach and the history of my grand-father’s bed being pushed to the other side of the room in San Francisco in 1906. My first experience was in 1971. The 6.5 Sylmar quake had me running from my bed meeting my mom in the hallway. In 1989, my son slept in his a cradle as the World Series Quake gently rocked him. We were safe hundreds of miles away but and I will never forget the moment of pause waiting for it to increase in intensity. I knew it had to have been bad somewhere. To this day waiting under an underpass makes me uncomfortable after seeing the freeway overpasses pancake in the bay area. In the 1994 Northridge quake, I foolishly ran to the window on a top floor in the Ritz-Carlton to watch the transponders spark over Pasadena. I had become too complacent. My husband’s concerned words brought me back to realizing how dangerous and irresponsible my actions were in my excitement.

I no longer take this risk for granted though I’m not as prepared as I should be. My EQ containers are empty and I need bottled water on hand and fresh first-aid supplies. I read where alcohol would be a most valued commodity – for numbing effects. One area I have prepared, is if we should have to abandon our cars. There is a survival kit in each one.

I talk to my boys to try to get them thinking of what they would do if a big one should strike when they aren’t at home. Son2 is mere miles from the San Andreas. I asked him to find out how his college is prepared. He said ‘if it gets bad’ he will come home. I told him if it’s that bad, he won’t be able to get home. I suggested a bag he could grab on his way out; a flashlight and extra blanket like we have at home. It fell on deaf ears, ‘okay, mom.’ Youth.

I hope people find it in their hearts to be generous to the Haitians in their profound chaos. It’s not unlike a sudden death. The shock of this magnitude must be unbearable and I understand this could happen here, to me, to those whom I love. I run through my mind of places to hunker down in my house, where the arm of the couch meets a table for adding strength, how to turn the gas off, of quickly filling the bath tub for water or how to get home if both bridges that cross the arroyos leading into my community are down. I would have to walk through some steep, rough areas to get back home. It is surreal to contemplate when thinking of basic survival.

My friend, Lady Kate, had a dream she was standing on a road watching panicked people run by her. She woke confused thinking we must have been having an earth quake. She felt somewhere in the world as she slept, during the night, there was a devastating quake in the world.
There was. China.

We are all connected.