All this excess water in the northeast portion of our country has hit home. Literally.
I have been seeing tons of photos and videos of my hometown and the area surrounding it, along the Susquehanna River, in the aftermath of tropical storm Lee. That, and my husband tuning in to an ABC special on TV about 9/11, are sucking me into a profound sadness this fine evening of soft temperatures, nearly full moon, and serenading crickets.
So much destruction, so much heartache. So much hard work ahead of so many people. I can’t even imagine. My daughter-in-law-to-be’s childhood home up to its windows in water. My family amusement park totally washed out.
I feel so helpless. I feel so heartsick. I feel so guilty. Here I am, dry, safe, enjoying electricity and food and my comfy furniture. Taking my blessings completely for granted.
I know in the coming weeks I will feel compelled to help somehow. I will roll up my sleeves, lace up my work boots, slide my hands into my work gloves, and do something, somewhere, for someone. How can I sit by as time slips past and forget?
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