One year ago, our family lost our home. The "things" we'd worked so hard to obtain. Two cars, the vast majority of our worldly possessions... the "things" we'd collected over 30 years. The "things" that helped to define our lives and made our house a home.
Gone. In 60 seconds or less.
A year ago this mattered immensely. Everything that made us comfortable was taken from us. Stolen from us. We didn't have coats, or shoes. For a brief moment in time we felt what it was like to be homeless. To feel shattered and broken. Because our house truly was.
It hurt for a long time. We worked quickly. Bought new cars, went Black Friday shopping 6 days after a c-section to have clothes to wear through the winter months. Replaced the things that would make us feel the most human.
For the next six months, I was scared. Of everything. I kept waiting for another storm. I kept expecting something to happen to our daughter, born too early. I imagined the worst case scenario for every situation in the shower as I was preparing to start my day. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This fear was overwhelming. It impacted every aspect of our lives. Until one day my husband pointed out that we were fine. Things were back to "normal." We were back on track, and prepared. The panic attacks began to fade. And slowly, we moved on.
Our daughter Brynn is truly our "hope". She is the happiest baby, and so easy going - like her dad. In her almost one year with us, she's had an ear infection and a couple cases of the sniffles since being out of the NICU. Her health is an amazing blessing. Her first 30 days were traumatic, but you'd never know it. She's crawling and standing and eating anything and everything we put in front of her. She's chunky and smiley and so so so incredibly loved.
Aiden is constantly chattering about something. He's outgoing and so full of energy. He makes friends anywhere he goes. His mood can turn on a dime of course - he gets that passion from his mother. But he is sweet and loving and kind.
I often think about how I'll tell my kids about the experience that will end up shaping so much of their young lives. Neither of them remember it right now, much less understand it. But someday, we will share the pictures and stories we remember of the day our family survived a direct hit by an EF4 Tornado. How we crawled out the basement window and saw what was left of our home... But what I look forward to sharing with them is our story of hope. Of friends and family and community. Those of you who were there that day, or in the days, weeks or months that followed... Thank you. We can never repay you for the love and kindness you showed to us. But we will pay it forward every chance we get.
We didn't lose the "things" that matter most. We gained a new perspective on life, love and family.
There's a line in one of my son's Pete the Cat books that jumps out at me every time I read it.... "I guess it just goes to show that stuff will come and stuff will go. But do we cry? Goodness no. We keep on singing..."
