These past few months, I have been preoccupied with my rehabbing; looking for little milestones on my path towards full functioning of my hand and shoulder.

I will listen to the news regularly, but very few bits of information penetrate my bubble. I consider that I’ve become numb to the circus that has become our national political scene and have never much hung on lifestyle trends, no matter which celebrity may be involved.

But last Tuesday morning, while making tea and watching the morning news, I caught video of a developing story; another weather related tragedy that was just beginning.

Wild fires were ablaze in northern California. Black smoke filled the streets. Beautiful trees along rolling hills seemed to have been turned into kindling. Thousands of homes were being destroyed.

I was upset about the suffering in Puerto Rico following Hurricane Maria, but this uncontrollable act of nature hit me personally. My best friend lives in Sonoma.

Lin moved from Chicago about ten years ago. She sold her Bucktown home and joined her husband to live in wine country.

We have managed to see each other almost every year and have enjoyed many Friday afternoon Happy Hours telephonically. At the end of our respective workweeks, we have clinked glasses in the area of our receivers before venting about current events in our lives.

She has put so much into her house; reconfiguring the kitchen and entranceway, overseeing the rooftop installation of solar panels, converting a barn into a guesthouse, and landscaping. It was hard to think about it being threatened. Then, I was slammed with a heavier thought.

Oh my God, Was she okay?

Immediately, I texted a short note to her.

After not hearing back all day, I left a message on her home answering machine. Late at night, her husband called me to acknowledge receipt of my message.

He reported that the town was full of smoke, that they could look out their windows and see flames only two miles away, that the nearby town of Glen Ellen and various vineyards and tasting rooms I had visited with them were hit hard.

He relayed that Lin had left the previous day and was staying with friends in San Francisco and that he planned to join her the following day.

Last Wednesday, I abruptly ended another phone conversation when I saw her cell phone number flash on my caller I.D.

She explained that the devastation was incredible, that she was in touch with her boss and was advised not to even think about coming in to work. She explained that her husband was going to join her and stay a few days at Jennifer’s and that they were also in touch with his brother in Palo Alto.

The conversation was short. I don’t know if all her words registered in my brain, but I heard her VOICE. That meant everything.

For the rest of the week, I watched for more news on the region, but it was not personally geared for my concerns. She called me on Sunday night. She was home. The fires were still very close, but firefighters were doing a better job of containment.

She said that she was tired but glad to be home.

I realize how vulnerable we all are; to natural disasters or to psychologically challenged people with guns. Literally, her safety and the preservation of her home depended on which way the wind blew.

I have never had children and have never been one to require a call from friends or family after a visit to announce their return trip ended in safe arrival.

I’ve heard the expression, No news is good news, and I don’t like to indulge in worry, but I cannot explain how much I changed when I heard her voice. There’s something about hearing the actual voice of someone you love telling you that they are safe that spells relief and comfort like nothing else.

Getting a call from a loved one and hearing, in their voice, only that they are home safe is no small thing.