I keep hearing people, including myself, tell me to put away my iPhone. To walk away from social media. To go on a Facebook diet. To stop depending on social media. I honestly was prepared to do just that this fall. I even wrote a blog post entitled, “Are You Addicted to Your iPhone?” that pokes fun of my own obsession with this silly gadget. Until two beasts called Harvey and Irma blasted through parts of the country that happen to be meaningful to me.
To be honest, I don’t know how I would have slept at night (albeit I don’t sleep much anyway, but that’s mommy insomnia fodder for another post) had I not had my iPhone to help me stay connected with the people I care about in Texas and Florida. You see, I was born in Houston and grew up in Clear Lake City, a wondrous community that calls Johnson Space Center home. A place where the flooding from Harvey’s aftermath hit hard. Although I moved away as a teenager, I hold that place and the people in it close to my heart. And my parents (who just celebrated their 50th anniversary during Irma) live in a town just outside of Cape Canaveral, Florida.
So, yes, I have had to hold my breath over the past few weeks.
I didn’t sleep much.
But I had my iPhone in my pocket.
Next to my bed.
In my car.
On the kitchen counter.
In my purse.
Next to my laptop.
Everywhere I went, I checked for updates.
For texts from loved ones.
Direct messages from family friends.
I was obsessed.
But it was a blessing.
You see, staying connected during these storms has actually been a good thing. As we learned in math back in junior high school, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but my direct line of communication from little old Rhode Island to people I care about in Florida and Texas, was made even more direct and more meaningful thanks to my cell phone. Thanks to the very thing that can serve as an addiction. A gadget the size of my hand that I have a love-hate relationship with at times. Yes, my cell phone turned out to be my silver lining playbook during these two natural disasters.
Yes, thanks to technology, thanks to Apple and all the cell phone companies out there (who did not pay me a dime to write this, thank you very much) communicating with loved ones who weathered these disastrous storms was made a heck of a lot easier.
You see, I chose not to watch the news on television.
Despite the fact that I graduated with a degree in journalism, I chose not to take the 24-7 news route to stay updated.
I relied on my iPhone for weather and news articles along with messages from loved ones.
From my gadget, I witnessed communities coming together despite political, socio-economic, or otherwise contrasting backgrounds. I witnessed human beings being decent human beings to one another. I heard stories. I watched footage. I read messages. I clicked on links from friends and family.
I clicked to donate.
Clicked for an update.
Clicked to let everyone know that our loved ones were OK.
My addiction to my iPhone turned out to be a blessing these past few weeks.
A blessing that allowed me, in little Rhody, to connect with family friends, childhood friends, relatives, cousins, college friends and people who knew me since I was a newborn. To be inspired by their stories, their needs, their generosity. Of communities lending a hand to those in need and getting through the flooding together.
I kept checking in on loved ones in Houston via Facebook messenger to make sure they were OK. Yes, Facebook, an outlet that often serves as a time-sucking distraction, was my saving grace.
I grew up in a community hit hard by the floods. I saw a picture on Facebook the other day from a private group made up of hundreds of current and past residents. My old neighborhood looked like an island, surrounded by 50 feet of water. Houses were damaged, hearts are broken. Lives are forever changed.
Thankfully, many loved ones, from family friends to extended family, are OK. Thanks to Facebook, I have been able to connect with them, to share messages of hope, links with good news. To find out where donations are really needed. Despite damaged homes, the people I care about are OK. I continue to hear stories of hope. From people rowing a neighbor to safety. Dogs saved, elderly people rescued. Debris cleaned up by neighbors and their children. My friend from college has shared stories that have brought me to tears.
I worried that my parents were going to be hit hard by Irma. We texted. We called. We left voicemails and sent emails with advice about hurricane preparedness, and our past storm stories. One of my dearest childhood friends and I reminisced about playing cards and pretending to be in Little House and the Prairie times when the power went out during one hurricane. Oh, I will never forget the hurricanes, floods and tornadoes we weathered together. Nothing can compare to what Houston has experienced these past few weeks.
So when I received a photo of my parents grilling bacon and eggs on their covered patio in Titusville, Florida this morning, I exhaled. And I giggled a little, when I noticed they found a way to make coffee in the middle of a hurricane. They celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with a power outage and coffee from the grill.
All that matters is they are safe. Irma is gone. And they are OK. Knowing this makes me so grateful. Maybe I can get some rest tonight.
All because of a text. On my iPhone. In Rhode Island.
