Florence

Sep 24, 2018
5 min read

Let me start off by saying that I am very lucky and blessed to have made it through Florence with what most would consider small inconveniences. What I say below is by no means meant to take away from the great loss experienced by so many. Loss of life, home, jobs, security and much more. There are many of us who are lucky. My gang of goddesses escaped the wrath of Florence with pretty minor damage...nothing that can't be fixed with some hammers, nails, chainsaws and some elbow grease. But there's another side to this experience. One that has caught most of us off guard. The emotional and mental side of going through a hurricane and it's aftermath. A side that, even with very little physical damage, exists and is pervasive. Prepping for the hurricane was traumatic. Questions swirling and constant second guessing was how our days were filled pre-Florence. Should I stay? Should I go? Can I go? What should I take? Can I live without this? Will he go with me? Will we be stranded? Will we be able to return to our home? Will there be a home to return to? Do I have enough gas? Enough food? What about work? Do I have enough insurance? Do I have the right insurance? What if it floods? What if the windows get blown in? What if we lose everything? What will I do? These are just a few of the questions that swirled through my head. And that was just the beginning because what came next was justifying the answers and having to explain our decisions which just led to more second guessing. Then, once all was decided and our path was set, the wait began. Waiting for the first drops of rain. The first gust of high wind. Waiting for the rooms to go dark. Waiting for everything to go silent except Florence. And then it did. The hurricane was traumatic. The incessant rain and wind. The darkness. The howling. The not knowing of what is coming. Florence was slow. It was days of waiting before her eye breached the shore. Time was filled with silent prayer, blowing wishes in the face of the wind and, in moments of clarity, harnessing the energy that swirled around us. And darkness. Not physical darkness but a darkness within the soul that threatened to disrupt the calm we were trying to maintain. It was fear. Impatience. Anger. Resentment. That darkness simmered for 36 hours before it was flooded with light...and air conditioning. Just as we drew a deep breath of gratitude for making it through the worst and settled into bed we discovered Florence wasn't done with us yet. Her fierceness was truly just beginning and she roared for another 8 hours as tornadoes ripping through neighborhoods from town to town. It felt like the spawn of Satan had arrived at our doorstep and we were caught with our guard down. The constant warnings on our cell phones, the televisions, the text messages from concerned friends. The sitting on the floor in a tiny bathroom at 2am. The terror and worry. It was too much. And then the silence. The calm. The rain let up. The wind became just wind. And all was as it had been, right? No. With new eyes we could finally see what Florence ravaged and the damage she left in her wake. There was hope. Sadness. Fear. Peace. And then the questions started again. Is it over? Are we ok? Are they ok? Is it safe outside? Is there damage? Can we go home? Can we stay? What do we do now? There were no quick answers to these questions. Many still don't have answers. Most of questions in the days post-Florence have been answered but some still remain...Are we ok? I don't know the answer to this. I think we are. But there is something that has shifted. Dreams are vivid and have to do with issues like not having water, money or other themes that fill me with anxiety. My emotional state is a roller coaster. I go from gratitude to anger to grace to sadness and then to guilt in less time than it takes to toast a waffle. I am in awe of the beauty and kindness emitted by perfect strangers. And I am slammed back into reality by the selfishness and misdeeds of those who seek to take advantage of our temporary weakness. I know with time that sleep will come easier and that one day I'll wake up feeling rested. I know that one day I will go 24 hours with out a full spectrum of emotions. I know that one day I won't look out at the ocean and what unnamed storm lingers in the distance. I know that one day patience and peace will win out over fear and the rapid beat of my heart. I know we will all get there...one day.

My plea to those watching this from afar....

For those of us who came through seemingly unscathed there are internal, unseen, changes we have undergone. We are still working through them and wondering how we make it all fit in post-Florence. When you ask how you can help, here are some ideas. Give...there are communities still underwater. Families who are just now losing homes due to flooding. People will lose their jobs because children are still not back in school and parents can't work. Adults and children will suffer illnesses due to exposure to mold, rancid water and toxic materials and chemicals. A list of resources is below. Check in...we may not answer, we may be quieter than usual, we may sound just fine. But be there. Be an avenue to work through whatever it is we are going through...even if we don't know how to vocalize it. Have Patience...understand there is not a "back to normal." There may never be. Each day we have to find a new normal. A new way to be. To sleep. To smile. To work. To make sense of what has, and continues to, happen. Sometimes we are just trying to make it through the day I don't know what lies ahead. The city I love is different. Relationships are stronger. New friendships have formed through this experience. There's a kinship, a sisterhood of compassion and understanding, that is so strong in this community that I trust we will all be ok one day. But, it won't come without work, without faith and perseverance for one day soon all the outside help will leave. The resources will be gone. People will have to return to their jobs. That will be when we see what we are truly made of and how we have all changed. I pray it's for the better. But for now, for just today, I'm going to spend some time alone. I'm going to unpack all the things that I placed in my kitchen shelves. I'm going to clean the floors and the fridge and the windows. I'm going to put away my clothes that I packed pre-Florence. I'm going to seek out joy and hunt for beauty. I'm going to focus on taking care of me. I'm going to take a bath and soak in my favorite oils and then, tonight, under the light of the full moon I'm going to try to let go of Florence a little more. And I will be grateful. This is today's new normal.