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I Thought I Was Prepared…
I thought I was prepared.
I consider myself to be someone who is ready for things. My house is seismically reinforced, I have enough water and shelf-stable food stored to last my wife and I a few weeks.
I thought I was prepared.
We keep both cars with full tanks as much as possible. I have a portable fire safe with all our important documents in it… it has a carry handle. I have a go-bag in my car at all times, with first aid supplies, a good knife, a pair of rugged shoes, and enough food and water for 24 hours in case I have to walk home. I own a gun.
I thought I was prepared.
On Thursday, March 12, 2020, my employer decided that the next day, Friday the 13th, would be our last day in the office, so I spent the day ensuring that my employees had everything they needed to go full remote. It was very stressful, but we managed.
I thought I was prepared.
On my way home that day, my brother called me while I was driving. “It’s mom…. She’s gone.”. He was crying. I’d never, as an adult, heard him cry. She’d been feeling a little under the weather for a couple of days and had gone to urgent care that morning. 6 hours later, she was dead. A pulmonary embolism.
I thought I was prepared.
