Calling the Cops

After trying to reach my parents by phone for 3 days, getting a busy signal at all hours of the day and night, I considered that not even my father could be working on the computer that long (he has a dial-up connection, the last one in America). I considered that the phone could be off the hook, I considered that they could be having a wild party, I considered that they could be in big trouble. I tried calling one of their neighbors to no avail. So, doing what every paranoid crime-buster would do, I called the police to investigate. Not 911, that would be drastic. I called the non-emergency dispatch unit of the local sheriff’s department. Figured they were bored anyway. To credit the Santee police, they were responsive, polite and sent an officer out to my folks’ house within 20 minutes. Hopefully not with a siren.

The very nice deputy guided Dad to a special police phone to call me and say hello. Mom apparently slept through the whole event. I heard my father telling the officer “well, that’s my daughter. She’s very thoughtful but such a worry wart.”

It turns out that the town lost all phone and some electrical service for the past 72 hours due to tornado watches, floods and winds. While I know that California is experiencing “weather” I thought that meant a few showers.

Sometimes you just have to go with your gut. I don’t regret sending the coppers out – at least now they have a case record for the next incident, and I can bring them donuts on my next trip.

To bring everything up to date, my parents successfully checked out of their trial stay at the retirement facility and are actually considering moving there. They talked to a real estate agent about putting their house on the market. And here’s the best part. Mom is recognizing that they have to downsize. She cleaned off the kitchen counter – while that may not seem significant, it is a BIG deal. We haven’t seen the counter since 1988 due to the piles of expired coupons, pill bottles, old magazines and crusty ketchup packets.

I believe the hardest part – acceptance that their current housing situation is not good - is over. Practical logistics come next. Onward!

Oh – and yes, I really did color my hair back to brunette (with red streaks courtesy of neighbor Laura) as soon as I arrived back in Seattle last week. Surprisingly, most people tell me I look better in silver!