here i am

Laying on our bed in the hotel room we evacuated to in Orlando with our cat who hid in the safe and behind the curtain like the “Wizard of Oz”, our sweetest dog, Poppy, and our children who are also sweet (most of the time), I found myself watching, Dancing with the Stars. Between warnings of death and destruction by meteorologists outside with their legs wide apart or in front of green screens showing simulated storm surge, I came upon “Hair Metal Night.” Before one of the performances, the host apologized with a forlorn expression for the upcoming song choice that was picked weeks ago. And then, “Rock you like a Hurricane” came on.

Holy shit fire.

We are fine. Relatively speaking. We’re better than fine, really. We’re here together, safe and sound. Our 100-year-old-home is still standing with no damage. Our gigantic oak is still alive. We do not take any of this for granted.

We see our friends and neighbors struggling to put homes and businesses back together after flooding, uprooted trees, blown out windows, fires, totaled cars, and no electricity. With a disaster this massive in scale, everyone is impacted.

Also, everyone is exhausted. When exactly school will resume is questionable due to many schools in the area having suffered significant damage.

We’re trying to help but it’s hard to even know what to do. We try anyway even though it never feels like enough. I make banana bread or pumpkin bread and rake leaves or do some dishes. It feels piddly when someone you love is removing every piece of furniture from their home to place on their front yard to be hauled away and taken to a landfill or don’t know exactly where to live for the foreseeable future.

When I think about Hurricane Sandy in New Jersey, my mom didn’t have electricity for two weeks and my brother’s house, flooded. I didn’t understand how unsettling and draining it all was. We even made fun of all the drama beforehand. I get it now.

The gulf coast has been through the wringer these past few weeks. The fact that we’ve been in this pre-hurricane post hurricane anxiety-inducing fight, freeze or flight haze - twice - since September 26th and now it’s mid-October is really…something. I don’t have a better word for it, something is all I got.  

I think I have decision paralysis.

Our community is coming together offering free food, neighbors are setting up charging stations with fresh water and electricity so people without power can charge phones and iPads. Friends are cleaning up debris, cutting down fallen trees, moving furniture, and doing laundry. All of these efforts touch my weary soul deeply.

Wait, what day is it?

Sometimes it’s okay to simply say, “This, SUCKS.”  If you need permission to say this, I’m giving it to you. It’s really liberating.

Really, we’re trying to do the best we can.

The northern lights are being seen all over the northeast and west coast and it looks stunning and gorgeous. I’m envious.

But also? I’m happy and thankful to be right here because there are so many people here that I love with all my heart!

Collectively, we’re grieving, the losses are real, and they add up. The anxiety is not all in our heads. It’s palpable. You can see it in the long lines awaiting gas and people trying to find an ATM that has cash.

And the glimmers? The glimmers are here too! My favorite one from this past week? Having our friend’s kids here this weekend watching them hang out together and laugh with my kids like they did when they were little and lived next door.

We’re okay. And if you’re not okay in this moment, you will be. We will recover and it will take time.

And in the midst of recovery, take as many breaks as needed and even dance with the stars if it feels good.