Sorry, I’m not feeling very entertaining tonight. I feel horrible being away from Nashville during the flooding. My rescue instinct is in overdrive, yet it’s churning with no outlet. I should be there, if not pulling people from their homes in a boat then wearing an oversized vest in Vandy’s emergency operations center. I’m heading back Friday, but it’s not soon enough.
The photos, stories and videos are ripping my heart apart. The pain on the faces of the elderly… Pure anguish.
Two friends from Vandy have lost their homes. Gone. Washed away, completely, in the blink of an eye. They are safe, which is truly what matters most. But I ache for the magnitude of their loss… While life is paramount, the loss of “just stuff” is still great. The memories, the treasures, all destroyed. One friend is a videographer who’s won many Emmys, and now that I know he is safe, I wonder where his prized awards lay now. Under the many feet of cold, muddy, raging water? Tumbling along roads-turned-rivers, crashing into the shattered debris of a thousand other devastated lives?
This takes me back to the life-altering days and nights of Katrina. The angry, rushing water, the waterlines rising on homes, stores, football stadiums. I am so thankful that there are no bodies in the streets, as there were on the Gulf Coast. But I am heartsick. I thought I had recovered, mostly, from my post-K trauma. Perhaps I haven’t moved on quite as much as I thought…
Nature, again, scornfully laughs at us in our self-importance.
Friends in Nashville, you will recover. You will sob, you will rage, you will be emotionally and physically exhausted. (Hell, you’re probably already there.) But you will recover. You are strong, you are connected, you are special. Tomorrow will be a better day.
Love to all, from a lonely expatriate in Texas.