Reader TTS

The self-doubt, I realized, was keeping me from the larger question of where I was going to go. If you think this sounds easily solved online, Wi-Fi service is never stellar when it's

taxed by a county-wide emergency. Just try searching "shelter from Los Angeles fire" and take in results with words like "overwhelmed" in their descriptions, which was

how I felt but was hoping would not be such a popular feeling on Google. Like out of a movie, my phone buzzed again. Two separate former coworkers, both with families, texted to ask if I had

a place to go. Then I got a call from an old college roommate in Seattle, a message from another friend up north offering a plane ticket, and one more text, this time from Kevin, safe miles

away in Boyle Heights, whom I see maybe a couple of times a month: "Hey, you OK? I have a dog, but if you need to leave your place, you can crash here, and we can keep our animals

apart." _You see, George Bailey, you’ve really had a wonderful life._ No man is failure who has friends. I don’t have a partner, but I do have a family of people who mean just as much

as any blood relations and give me reasons for hope in times of hardship. I called Lyft — I should start listing it as my emergency contact — stumbled out into the street with a double-wide

cat carrier, a pack on my back the size of a large toddler, and a reusable grocery bag that I shoved my laptop into. I headed to Kevin's place. After a couple of days, my cats and I

were able to return home. But it's not like I feel safe. I've stopped assuming anything about the fires; the fact they got as close as they did is a first in my part of town. My

closest friends have been spared their homes, but many coworkers and acquaintances have not been as fortunate. I can't help but reflect on how many options I was lucky enough to have

that so many others did not in such a terrible situation. It's that appreciation, I realized, that's more important than thoughts of aging or the practicality of packing a Kindle.

What's crucial is knowing what you have. I had been so worried about what to take that I hadn't concerned myself with how much, after 57 years, I was still taking for granted. 

_AARP essays share a point of view in the author's voice, drawn from expertise or experience, and do not necessarily reflect the views of AARP. _