You don't miss it until it's gone.

After spending 24 hours without power during last week's storm, I realized how much we all rely on electricity.

On Thursday, I drove through town towards the SODO district to pick up my wife, just as Seattle Seahawk fans were arriving to the game at Qwest Field, creating gridlock.

It started raining hard and the parking lot of her building was filled with water at least six inches deep. Everyone leaving the building went home with shoes and socks soaked in water.

On the way home we had to detour and backtrack three times after deep pools of water closed intersections.

When I got home, the first task was to secure the garbage, yard and paper recycling containers. Next came the barbecues on my deck.

Flashlights were placed in every room of the house with spare batteries set aside. I made sure the two portable televisions were ready to go.

I woke up around mid-night to the ominous sound of the storm howling through our Beacon Hill neighborhood.

Looking out the kitchen window, the trees were swaying back and forth like I've never seen before.

The power then went out and the lights stopped working. I could see Boeing Field and the Boeing buildings below our hill. Boeing had plenty of generator power with its properties lit up like a Christmas tree.

I tried to go back to sleep but couldn't, as I heard things crashing against the side of the house. I worried about my single pane windows shattering.

Around 4 a.m. the winds calmed down. I began hearing airplanes taking off from Boeing Field.

In the morning I surveyed the damage. Fortunately my house came out unscathed. One neighbor's roof tiles were all over my yard. Part of her deck had collapsed.

Two houses over, trees had been uprooted, landing on a home, taking out the gutter and corner of the roof. Some trees along Beacon Avenue had toppled over onto power lines.

At least there was light now from Mother Nature. I fired up a Webber grill to heat up soup and make hot water for tea.

It wasn't until it got dark, when the depressed feeling of not having electricity set in.

I drove down to Chinatown for some take out. All the restaurants in Chinatown were busy. Traffic lights were still out with lines of cars waiting to get through intersections. I-5 was a parking lot.

Sitting at my dining room table and trying to eat dinner while reading a day old newspaper was uncomfortable but manageable.

My wife and I were bundled up with layers and layers of clothing to keep warm.

Just after mid-night, the power came on.

In the morning, with a hot cup of coffee finally in my hands, I picked up the condiment package that came with my dinner.

Inside were four fortune cookies. The first one was irrelevant "You will meet someone famous," it read.

The other three were much more in tune to the experience of the last two days.

"You will dine in an exotic restaurant." Like my dining room in the dark with no heat I thought to myself.

"There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead for you." The thrill came when the power was turned on.

"Your home is a pleasant place from which you draw happiness."

That's true. Even in a windstorm, there's no place like home.

Dean Wong may be reached at 783.1244 or dino@robinsonsonnews.com