Freezing temperature, no electricity, no water, total helplessness to do anything to alleviate all three is a calamity. Misery came to visit countless folks like us - neighbors, friends, nameless others from many places - but I understood it came to mean different things to different people. Misery could be a punisher, a stern teacher, a reminder of the fragile balance between it and its counterweight - happiness. Misery and happiness are the two companions that sit with us at either end of the proverbial seesaw of life.
It should not take calamity, such as what just befell Texas and all the other places affected by the winter storms, to make us realize and appreciate the things we take for granted. It should not take for misery to lay its hand on us for us to be reminded of the temporariness of everything and anything we have. There is nothing corny about this at all. If anything, there is so much truth in it that is as profoundly real as this: Life can be summed up, in the end, as a balance sheet between the things we cherish and those we would rather not have to endure or be miserable about, because in the seesaw of life - we go up, we go down. Those who do well seem to be those able to consistently adjust their perspectives whether on the way up or on the way down. Granted, this last episode will not last for very long, or its effects we hope to go away soon like a wisp of pungent air, there are lessons if we make misery a teacher.
Actually, if both misery and happiness are teachers, the former has a thicker lesson plan while the latter is sometimes the substitute teacher where the whole class does not listen or pay attention but gleeful, nonetheless, with no time to pause or ponder. Who has time to think in the midst of happy moments.
I should have been miserable going countless times up and down the attic ladder, walking hunched over avoiding overhead studs, kneeling and squatting while cutting copper pipes to cap them shut with solder but unsuccessfully correcting all leaks. Power was off, no water, subsisting on cold sandwiches, misery loved my company. But, you know what? I was glad to realize that at my age of seventy five years I was able to do so many things, albeit one critically unsuccessfully but the other - capping shut the broken water sprinkler main assembly stopped the rushing water on our driveway. That was more critical actually, because then we had water from the faucet outside the house when the sprinkler was isolated. Still no water inside the house. The next challenge was bringing in water one bucketful at a time - storing it in one of the bath tubs for flushing and other clean up.
Yes, I had every reason to be miserable but I chose not to. I didn't want the seesaw to go all the way down to the ground with my wife and I both at that one end. I chose to be on the other side to keep it balanced as best I could.
And sometimes someone will step at the opposite end to bring you up. Our next door neighbor from day one had offered us the use of their bathroom for the much needed shower. The couple who had been neighbors for sixteen years now had been persistent with their offer so we took them up on it. Not only did we get to shower, the husband cooked us dinner. So, you see, the weight of one misery at one end is sometimes wonderfully counterweighed at the other for the seesaw to lift you up.
And then, after all of that respite, a good meal and a restful sleep, we woke up to find a good section of the ceiling and insulation piled up on the garage floor by the door that connects to the inside of the house. That part of the ceiling caved in overnight just missing the car. The weight of dripping water - apparently, the shut off valve to the house, though tightly closed had not sealed all of the water from seeping in - was brought to bear on the weakened sheet rock.
Misery was not quite through, increasing the ante on mischief, just short of going all in, obviously holding all the high cards against what we held - a measly pair of deuces. Misery was winning.
The gaping hole at the ceiling gave me a glimpse into misery's cards. It exposed the copper pipe that was leaking. Aha, it was an opportunity to call misery's wager. But first, I needed to clean up the mess and get the car out of the way. I hauled away the soggy insulation and broken up sheet rock, with rake and wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow to one corner of the driveway's extension.
It brought back memories from fifty nine years ago. I was sixteen years old then. I grew up in one little barrio from one of the Philippine central islands. We lived in a small thatched roof in a 250 square meter lot. Part of the lot in the back was next to a pond that during monsoon season made claim to a fifth of the land. My father wanted to "reclaim" that part away from the pond. I helped out by collecting the nearby neighborhood dry waste, such as dried leaves of coconut frond and fruit trees and oyster and other seashells. I did several wheelbarrow trips each morning before going to school, before neighbors started burning the dried leaves. The neighborhood knew me to be that "wheelbarrow kid". We did reclaim that piece of land and years later it proved to be the most fertile part of the backyard.
Now at 75, I kept replaying that episode of my young life in my head as I was shoveling and moving the wheel barrow back and forth. I didn't let misery to have its fun because I was just glad I can still haul trash away. Of course, I didn't have to move the trash away but for a mere 15-20 meters, which was worth getting back at misery.
I capped the one copper pipe and went for the "test". There was another leak at the other adjoining pipe parallel to it! Misery was smiling. Again. I capped that second line. Then the test. Alas, another leak at the attic just above our bathroom, after inspection. I capped the one copper pipe. Then there was another. There was not much I can do on that one. It was on an elbow and T-fitting connected to a bigger copper pipe (3/4 inch). I did not have a 3/4 inch cap and there was none to be had at the local home center.
Well, I wish the story is going to end well but it didn't because as of this writing, after all of that, we still don't have water in the house. So, back to hauling water in by the bucketful from the garden hose.
More points to misery. Misery with hands on its hips looking at me smiling.
I am not going to let it get me down. Again, I won in a way because all that going back and forth, up and down the attic ladder, the hunching, crawling, kneeling had little effects on me physically. I had scratches and a few bumps on my head from hitting the overhead studs a few times, but I have no less mobility than before.
Instead, I keep thinking about the million other hapless folks in unimaginable predicaments right now, with no water, no electricity with very few options other than maintaining the will to survive.
One of the sweetest words in the English language, to help assuage the rapacious grin of misery is, "It could have been worse". Yes indeed, what we have at home could have been worse. The worst of any single sentence in the English language is, "I give up". Even if it only means giving up hope. Hope only ends when we are no longer conscious of life.
Remember, the seesaw of life never stops moving. When on the high end, enjoy but be always thankful to get there and being there, but never lose sight that even on the way down or while being there, the seesaw will soon move again. Life would be boring and less challenging if not for the constant seesaw. Don't let misery remain at the other end. Not giving up is the surest way to dislodge it.
What a mess!
P.S. Just three hours after I published this, and almost a week after the first winter blast when we lost power and water, the plumbers came. Misery was no longer smiling, pouting even in its little corner. I hope it stays there for a very long time. But we have to remain vigilant because it is always there waiting for its turn to step on that end of the seesaw. Never forget you and those closest to you are no less formidable. The counterweight to misery - happiness - is just as willing to step at the other end. Your mind has the entry key to shut out misery and let happiness in.
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