Our family members head home tomorrow. They should be able to get back to their houses safely, as they live about a 45-minute drive north of Gulfport. They know that their homes survived with minimal wind damage, although they lost many trees. But it’s been a traumatic experience. One family member rode out about 8 hours of terrifying winds alone in a metal building on his property. He said it sounded like a 747 was parked next door with engines roaring the whole time. His hours the day after were spent checking on neighbors, cutting up fallen trees with his chainsaw, and wondering if this was the end of things.
Churches where friends were married are gone. The apartment where my husband once lived is gone. Landmarks … gone.
There are so many people who died on the Gulf Coast in the hurricane (mostly from the rapid flooding) that — as far as I know — officials there are still concentrating their efforts for now on rescuing the living before they continue removing the dead. There are places where bodies are still floating in the water until the overwhelmed emergency workers can remove them; I know, one family member saw them Wednesday.
Whoever deemed this “our tsunami” was right indeed.
Our relatives are heading home with some of the things they’ll need to get through the weeks until power is restored — gasoline generators. Charcoal briquets. Jugs of water. Large gasoline cans that they’ll fill up where they can. Giant packages of toilet paper. The foods they like that will keep without refrigeration. Coolers full of ice for their perishables. They’ll have full tanks of gas and be in secure, sturdy vehicles. And we’ll be running down 1-2 times a month to take them and other family members some of the more difficult-to-obtain items as they run out. They’re already weary as they face the long months of cleanup efforts ahead. But they are alive, and the quiet celebration we’re all feeling in our hearts over that fact still buoys us.
Tomorrow, I return to my frumpy house (love you, house — you just need a better housekeeper than I’ll ever be), my usual family life (for which I’m more grateful than ever to still have), and yes, even my knitting (which challenges and comforts me). And I’ll do so with gratitude, hope, and prayers for those who can’t do the same quite yet.
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