It's been a crazy week. A tragic week. You'd have to live in a hole to not know about the tragic mudslide that happened in one of our nearby communities. A community that houses people that I am familiar with. A community that I grew up around. A community that is home to people I grew up with, people I have come to know as adults and friends of friends. And, even if I knew no one, it would still not change how unbelievably horrific the situation is. It would not change how my heart breaks for these people that were innocently sitting in their homes or working in their yards. People doing repair work for home owners, people traveling through the area on a road trip or just going to town. Families torn apart in seconds. It breaks my heart for them. In that one instant, the hillside decided to unleash a fury that would forever change their lives.
It all happened last Saturday. Will was at work. I needed to go get hay for the horses, so headed up to a place I go on hwy 530. I thought it was odd that as I was leaving the hay place, a ton of emergency vehicles went by. The whole way home I continued to pass vehicle after vehicle with flashing lights. I got home and discovered their had been a mudslide on the same hwy I had just been on, but much further up the valley. Spooky. I immediately starting seeing the posts and pictures. This was crazy. It wasn't just a minor mudslide, it was HUGE. I could not wrap my mind around it. I instantly searched my brain for anyone I knew that was up in that area. And then the news was saying that the river was completely blocked and that when it gave way, flash flooding and mass destruction was sure to follow for miles. Now, my neighbors would be affected. Holy crap! We live on a hill, so we would be safe from harm, but what about so many of my friends? I was seriously worried.
Will finally came home from work later that afternoon. He informed me that the very area that had this massive slide was where he went on Thursday to do some target practice just two days prior. This information made my stomach turn. This could have been Will. I could have been at work and never known why he didn't come home. He didn't tell me he had gone shooting, I would never have known and he could have been killed. This is one of those moments where my therapist would tell me to simmer down and not turn this situation into worst case scenario. Sorry, Doc, the train has left the station. I was so sick to my stomach over this whole thing, I couldn't shake it, I just kept watching the coverage, feeling helpless. I wanted to go help. I wanted to search for people, I wanted to to do something. Those people were trapped and they needed to be rescued. I heard them say on the news that they heard people calling for help, but that it was getting dark and it was too dangerous for the first responders to go in there. They had to look at the safety for everyone. I felt even more sick than before. I could not get the image out of my head of someone trapped, cold, wet, injured, begging for help and no one being able to get to them. I agonized about what they would be going through all night. If they would make it till the morning. I thought about their families and what they must be feeling. I could not even imagine. I thought about the first responders and how they would be haunted by those cries for help and how they could not get to them. I know how brave those firemen are and all the other emergency responders. Not just them, but all the neighbors trying to do their part. How agonizing for all of them. That was all I could think about.
I got up the next morning and turned the TV on immediately, hoping for good news. The only news we had was that they had people up there searching, but it was hard due to all the mud and water and debris. They did not hear any signs of life on this day. I was so incredibly sad. As I looked through Facebook I saw the story of a woman who had left her husband and three kids at home and now she had no idea where they were, or if they were alive and safe. My heart broke for her family, now separated. I made the mistake of clicking on her FB profile. I just wanted to see if her or her family was anyone I knew, anyone I had seen. What I read tore me apart. She had a post about being so excited to get to be a Girl Scout leader for her daughter's troop. Another post talking about how grateful she was to spend the day with her family that she loved so much. Yet another post about how much she loved them and enjoyed their time together. She seemed to be a God fearing woman. How could this happen to her? She was happy. She was thankful. She was blessed. Why did this happen to her? How could God let one of his people that was seemingly such a loving person go through this? My sadness dropped to a level that I could not come out of. And, the other stories kept coming. Another gal had a horse rescue, caring for horses others had neglected or abused. She was no where to be found. Another person lost their wife and granddaughter. They were beautiful and still full of life. Again, seemingly stellar members of the community. I continued to be sickened. The couple sitting on the porch reading the paper together, married for 46 years. The husband made it, his wife, also a celebrated member of the community, perished. The stories continued. People lost everything, their homes, their loved ones, all of their belongings. How could life be so cruel?
I have spent all week watching the news, watching the FB feeds, hearing the stories. I cannot stop thinking about it. It consumes me. I think about how these people were all just living their lives and it was all taken away. Some of those people so thankful for everything they had. And it was taken. I struggle with that. I should be more thankful. I should enjoy each day more. I should embrace it all, because I don't know when it will be taken. I can't be prepared for that day when it happens. I want to be, I want to know, I want to plan, I want to be ready. How can I be? It's not possible. And, maybe I don't want to be. I should live everyday to the fullest so that if it is all over in the blink of an eye, I will have enjoyed it all. The problem is, this is where I am broken. I feel like I can't enjoy it. I worry about Will going shooting again. What if he goes somewhere dangerous? What if this happens to him? What if we go somewhere that isn't safe. I mean, we think it is, but it turns out it isn't? What if? What if I was the one sitting home wondering if Will was alive or dead, but knowing in my heart he was dead? I could not survive that. I feel full of anxiety. I feel like any moment it could all be taken away from us. Taken away from me. Who would care for my dogs, my horses, my stuff? How would my family feel?
My anxiety increased last night as the wind blew so hard, slamming into our house time after time. I went to bed scared. I was scared the trees would fall on the house and kill us in our sleep. I was scared the roof was going to blow off. I was scared the windows were going to blow out. At one point, the wind hit the house so hard, I sat bolt upright, gasped and said, "Oh my God! That scared me so bad!" I looked over and Will was sleeping soundly, snoring. I sat there, sick to my stomach, sure I would throw up. I laid there for hours, heart racing, mind reeling. I thought about the crews working on the slide area in the dark with the wind and rain pounding them. I thought about the victims, wondering if there would be a miracle for anyone. I prayed to God that there would be a miracle. Just one, I asked. Just one. Please let one family have that one miracle.
And so, here I find myself, so many emotions. So sad, so unsure, so unable to find humor in many things. Feeling like I shouldn't see humor in anything, like I shouldn't post anything to FB that is carefree or silly. Definitely not anything about how my ass hurts from working out, or complaining about my fat belly. That stuff isn't important. How can I even think anything in my life is as significant as what is happening in all those people's lives that are living in a state of shock and grief. How can I be normal? Do I deserve to be? When something like this hits so close to home, I think maybe it is normal to feel this way? I don't know. I don't want to make this "all about me," because it sure isn't. I'm so insignificant in this whole thing.
Maybe there is a lesson to be learned for me. Maybe it's a chance for me to grow and realize I am not in control. I don't know. Maybe bad stuff just happens to good people. Maybe it doesn't "mean" anything. It doesn't mean anything except that life is too short to spend it miserable and all that time spent worrying is wasted. It also doesn't mean I shouldn't go to the gym and and that I should eat ice cream because life is so short, but rather, I should keep on trying to accomplish that dream, because maybe, just maybe I might live to see it happen. How great would that be? I cannot live my life in fear, because that isn't living. Nonetheless, I think it may take me a little longer to shake this feeling off. A little longer to grieve with the families impacted by this horrible event. And, I think that is okay, too.
It all happened last Saturday. Will was at work. I needed to go get hay for the horses, so headed up to a place I go on hwy 530. I thought it was odd that as I was leaving the hay place, a ton of emergency vehicles went by. The whole way home I continued to pass vehicle after vehicle with flashing lights. I got home and discovered their had been a mudslide on the same hwy I had just been on, but much further up the valley. Spooky. I immediately starting seeing the posts and pictures. This was crazy. It wasn't just a minor mudslide, it was HUGE. I could not wrap my mind around it. I instantly searched my brain for anyone I knew that was up in that area. And then the news was saying that the river was completely blocked and that when it gave way, flash flooding and mass destruction was sure to follow for miles. Now, my neighbors would be affected. Holy crap! We live on a hill, so we would be safe from harm, but what about so many of my friends? I was seriously worried.
Will finally came home from work later that afternoon. He informed me that the very area that had this massive slide was where he went on Thursday to do some target practice just two days prior. This information made my stomach turn. This could have been Will. I could have been at work and never known why he didn't come home. He didn't tell me he had gone shooting, I would never have known and he could have been killed. This is one of those moments where my therapist would tell me to simmer down and not turn this situation into worst case scenario. Sorry, Doc, the train has left the station. I was so sick to my stomach over this whole thing, I couldn't shake it, I just kept watching the coverage, feeling helpless. I wanted to go help. I wanted to search for people, I wanted to to do something. Those people were trapped and they needed to be rescued. I heard them say on the news that they heard people calling for help, but that it was getting dark and it was too dangerous for the first responders to go in there. They had to look at the safety for everyone. I felt even more sick than before. I could not get the image out of my head of someone trapped, cold, wet, injured, begging for help and no one being able to get to them. I agonized about what they would be going through all night. If they would make it till the morning. I thought about their families and what they must be feeling. I could not even imagine. I thought about the first responders and how they would be haunted by those cries for help and how they could not get to them. I know how brave those firemen are and all the other emergency responders. Not just them, but all the neighbors trying to do their part. How agonizing for all of them. That was all I could think about.
I got up the next morning and turned the TV on immediately, hoping for good news. The only news we had was that they had people up there searching, but it was hard due to all the mud and water and debris. They did not hear any signs of life on this day. I was so incredibly sad. As I looked through Facebook I saw the story of a woman who had left her husband and three kids at home and now she had no idea where they were, or if they were alive and safe. My heart broke for her family, now separated. I made the mistake of clicking on her FB profile. I just wanted to see if her or her family was anyone I knew, anyone I had seen. What I read tore me apart. She had a post about being so excited to get to be a Girl Scout leader for her daughter's troop. Another post talking about how grateful she was to spend the day with her family that she loved so much. Yet another post about how much she loved them and enjoyed their time together. She seemed to be a God fearing woman. How could this happen to her? She was happy. She was thankful. She was blessed. Why did this happen to her? How could God let one of his people that was seemingly such a loving person go through this? My sadness dropped to a level that I could not come out of. And, the other stories kept coming. Another gal had a horse rescue, caring for horses others had neglected or abused. She was no where to be found. Another person lost their wife and granddaughter. They were beautiful and still full of life. Again, seemingly stellar members of the community. I continued to be sickened. The couple sitting on the porch reading the paper together, married for 46 years. The husband made it, his wife, also a celebrated member of the community, perished. The stories continued. People lost everything, their homes, their loved ones, all of their belongings. How could life be so cruel?
I have spent all week watching the news, watching the FB feeds, hearing the stories. I cannot stop thinking about it. It consumes me. I think about how these people were all just living their lives and it was all taken away. Some of those people so thankful for everything they had. And it was taken. I struggle with that. I should be more thankful. I should enjoy each day more. I should embrace it all, because I don't know when it will be taken. I can't be prepared for that day when it happens. I want to be, I want to know, I want to plan, I want to be ready. How can I be? It's not possible. And, maybe I don't want to be. I should live everyday to the fullest so that if it is all over in the blink of an eye, I will have enjoyed it all. The problem is, this is where I am broken. I feel like I can't enjoy it. I worry about Will going shooting again. What if he goes somewhere dangerous? What if this happens to him? What if we go somewhere that isn't safe. I mean, we think it is, but it turns out it isn't? What if? What if I was the one sitting home wondering if Will was alive or dead, but knowing in my heart he was dead? I could not survive that. I feel full of anxiety. I feel like any moment it could all be taken away from us. Taken away from me. Who would care for my dogs, my horses, my stuff? How would my family feel?
My anxiety increased last night as the wind blew so hard, slamming into our house time after time. I went to bed scared. I was scared the trees would fall on the house and kill us in our sleep. I was scared the roof was going to blow off. I was scared the windows were going to blow out. At one point, the wind hit the house so hard, I sat bolt upright, gasped and said, "Oh my God! That scared me so bad!" I looked over and Will was sleeping soundly, snoring. I sat there, sick to my stomach, sure I would throw up. I laid there for hours, heart racing, mind reeling. I thought about the crews working on the slide area in the dark with the wind and rain pounding them. I thought about the victims, wondering if there would be a miracle for anyone. I prayed to God that there would be a miracle. Just one, I asked. Just one. Please let one family have that one miracle.
And so, here I find myself, so many emotions. So sad, so unsure, so unable to find humor in many things. Feeling like I shouldn't see humor in anything, like I shouldn't post anything to FB that is carefree or silly. Definitely not anything about how my ass hurts from working out, or complaining about my fat belly. That stuff isn't important. How can I even think anything in my life is as significant as what is happening in all those people's lives that are living in a state of shock and grief. How can I be normal? Do I deserve to be? When something like this hits so close to home, I think maybe it is normal to feel this way? I don't know. I don't want to make this "all about me," because it sure isn't. I'm so insignificant in this whole thing.
Maybe there is a lesson to be learned for me. Maybe it's a chance for me to grow and realize I am not in control. I don't know. Maybe bad stuff just happens to good people. Maybe it doesn't "mean" anything. It doesn't mean anything except that life is too short to spend it miserable and all that time spent worrying is wasted. It also doesn't mean I shouldn't go to the gym and and that I should eat ice cream because life is so short, but rather, I should keep on trying to accomplish that dream, because maybe, just maybe I might live to see it happen. How great would that be? I cannot live my life in fear, because that isn't living. Nonetheless, I think it may take me a little longer to shake this feeling off. A little longer to grieve with the families impacted by this horrible event. And, I think that is okay, too.
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