And then the storm came …

Fall semester started off with a bang, alongside my commitment to blog at least once a month as I count down to my 40^th birthday. Classes were in full swing, committees were assigned, writing projects outlined on my calendar, and a host of identified tasks detailed in between. But then the storm came.

I’ve lived in the south for most of my life. Hurricane Hugo was my first experience with a major hurricane and it’s after effect. That was 1989. Since that time, I’ve watched the impact of Hurricane Katrina and then Hurricane Matthew from afar. Between those years, we’ve received a number of hurricane warnings. Most times these warnings are downgraded as the storms slow or change direction. So, many will understand why I was not in a haste to evacuate when we were notified that Hurricane Florence was headed our way. I planned to watch closely and make a final decision a day or two before the storm was set to hit. After a brief visit to my office and chatting with many frantic colleagues, I decided to leave. One of the best decisions I’ve made.

What followed has been nothing short of heartbreaking. I need not rehash what you can read in a variety of news reports. For 10 days I stayed with a close friend as we watched the hurricane hit and seem to linger in our area. The days following crushed my heart – roads flooded, many stranded, students without a place to return, and many faculty and staff unsure of what they would find when they came home.

I finally got on the road and drove home. For the first time in a long time, I remained in panic mode for the entire four hours it took for me to arrive – unsure of if/when I’d run into flooded highways or newly closed routes. Although my route remained unobstructed, I did not expect to see so many rooftops with homes invisible or to smell the stench of who-knows-what for miles along the drive. I finally reached my city and felt like I’d driven into the Twilight Zone – trees were down everywhere, relief trucks in most of the neighborhoods, and a gloomy sadness in the air.

I’ve been home for one full week now. Some parts of town are in a groove of their new normal, while others remain on the long road to repair. Volunteering has been soothing as it has reminded me of the kindness of our world during a time when hatred seems to abound. People are helpful. People are grateful. People are hurting. People are healing.

I’ve had three weeks to contemplate life, the possibility of losing everything, and the near-reality of starting over. This experience will forever be etched in my mind. I am grateful for my employer – system-wide they have done an amazing job of keeping us all informed. I’m grateful for loving friends – not only my friend who graciously opened her home to me, but those who checked on me before, during, and after the storm. I am grateful for the sparing of my home and opportunities to serve others.

I am still counting down to 40, but with new layers. Life is unpredictable. Every day does matter. Material things can and do fade away. Life is precious. Friends are invaluable. Love prevails.

I look forward to “seeing” you again next month. #ILMStrong #CapeFearStrong #WeWillRebuild