one little, two little, three little Hindrichs

Here's the latest from hysteria hurricane central:

My grandparents, though crotchety, took a tree through the bedroom roof. They still refuse to leave. My grandfather is industrious as ever, helping his neighbors clean up debris. I have not heard their voices, but my aunt spoke to their neighbor via satellite phone.

My father is still at the hospital, where he has remained since Sunday night. They have no AC, are running on backup generator power, and no phones, but he called from a satellite phone to tell me he's okay.

My mother.

My mother is not okay. My mother is still MIA and it does NOT make me happy and even if she is just holed up in the attic of our house waiting for the national guard to get her out I want to talk to her. I want the cell phone towers to magically mend and a signal clear as day to come through to tell me she is all right. I never again want to have to bite my lip while I talk to every school administrator possible to find my brother so I can tell him that no, our mother has not yet surfaced. He's a teenager so his first response is anger but I know he is hurting as much as I am. I don't want to have to call my aunt and tell her that her youngest sister is still not found.

Pray hard people - she's a pain in the ass but she's my mother and I don't get a trade-in.