You’re undoubtedly wondering how we survived the onslaught of Hurricane Irene, so I wanted to give you an update.

First and most important—we made it, bowed, perhaps but not broken. The experience was, however, horrific.

Once the storm had passed this morning, we emerged, blinking at the unfamiliar sunlight, to survey the damage. The destruction we witnessed was, well, devastating. In our yard alone, I counted at least three—maybe four, it was hard to tell—twigs lying on the lawn. As I looked down the street, there was literally not a single house that didn’t have dozens of leaves scattered across the lawn. The leaves were literally ripped from the trees by the terrible winds that bore down on us. Everywhere, flowers were bent over in their pots, a few having even lost some petals to the merciless rain.

The water damage was on a whole different level. Grass was matted down where the downspouts emptied their torrents onto the lawn. Low spots where during normal storms small puddles would form instead sported large puddles. And everywhere—everywhere—the ground was wet. If you were to walk anywhere on the lawn in your socks, they would literally be very wet.

But the crushing aftermath was a relief compared to what we endured throughout the course of the storm. The rain lashing at the windows, combined with the howling of the wind, produced such a noise that we literally had to turn the TV volume up somewhat to hear the show clearly. With Twitter, non-stop coverage on all channels, internet-based weather services, and iPad apps our only links to the outside world, it was difficult to tell what was happening with the storm, and the anxiety was unbearable. Then the ultimate, crushing blow—the power went out. We had been watching a movie and as we sat there in the dark, the panicked questions raced through our minds: How long until our frozen food melted? Are our iPods charged? What shows will the DVR miss recording? Mercifully, the interminable waiting ended, and power was restored, a full 50—maybe even 60—seconds after it went out. Of course, it took probably four times that long before the projector was able to recycle and start, but so relieved were we to finally have the electricity back on that we didn’t mind the wait.

Of course, there have been other natural disasters that also have been tough for some—Katrina, the tsunami, the Northridge and Loma Prieta earthquakes—but as we all know, this one happened on the East Coast and so dwarfs all those in importance. We’re just grateful we survived and while it’s not an experience we’d wish on anyone, we know our children will long remember it and will have grown stronger for having lived through it.

Now we turn to picking up the shattered pieces of our lives, which we hope we can do with the grace of God and substantial FEMA grants.

Thank you for your concern and prayers.

RJ and Family

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R. J. Squirrel is overeducated, underemployed, and jealous of his little sister’s writing career. He lives in Northern Virginia with his wife, son and daughter, six freeloading feral cats, and three regular cats.