Harvey Hits Home.
(Photo Credit: REDSTRIPE Photography)
It’s been a rough weekend for me.
For those of you that don’t already know, I grew up in Sugar Land (Southwest Houston), and spent my first four post-college years living inside the loop in the Galleria area and West University.
Wichita Falls has become my home in so many ways, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I have so, very, many heartstrings attached to the Bayou City. My parents, sister, grandfather, best childhood friend, and countless other friends that feel like family live spread across the Houston metro area.
Watching the news yesterday turned me into a sobbing pile of mush. So much so, my lovely husband dragged my sorry butt around town to get Starbucks, raid the Storkland sale, and gave me free range to purchase whatever Fall decorations I wanted from At Home, before pulling the rest of the decorations out of our attic and helping me set up. All in an attempt to cheer me up.
The. Man. Is. A. Keeper.
But the crazy continued. I cried worried for the safety of my family. I cried for my friends watching their homes slowly destroyed. I cried for the people I don’t know that don’t have the resources my friends and family are fortunate to have. For those in shelters. I cried for the pets that may be lost or worse. I cried thinking of people getting stuck in their attics. For the woman on Facebook who was running out of baby formula. I also cried when I saw the HEB recovery trucks gearing up to go in and serve hot meals, and when Mattress Mack opened all his furniture stores to evacuees needing a place to sleep (and their pets!!!).
I didn’t know I had that all in me, to be honest. Later I got to thinking about just WHY I had become so emotional.
My entire childhood, for as far back as I can remember, we’d begin each summer by picking up a hurricane tracking guide at the local grocery store. We’d watch the news together, and plot courses on the grid provided. The threat of hurricanes has always been there. I’ve even been through a couple of direct hits. I lived in the Houston area when both Allison and Ike hit, but being THERE with my family was a million times less scary then watching from afar.
Perhaps helplessness is the most terrifying feeling of them all.
The good news is, we are not completely helpless. One of my friends shared this article this morning of all the various organizations you can lend your support to in the coming days and months of recovery.
If you feel so compelled, I encourage you to check it out and donate as you’re able. My family is fortunate. They have resources and funds to help them through this time, but there are SO VERY MANY that do not. And with reporting that some areas may not fully drain for as long as two months, there is a very long road ahead.