Things Katrina Taught Me

https://columbiasc.citymomsblog.com/hurricane-lessons/

Getting to the Ground Zero Museum (and to the Ground Zero of My Heart)

When I heard that there was a Katrina museum near my house while I was home for enough time to check it out, I could not stop thinking about it.  Since it was only opened for limited hours and days, I had to finagle to make it work.  The last day before I left, my Mom and I went to the Ground Zero Museum in Waveland, Mississippi.  It was a novel concept to me – I am going to a museum about something that I lived through.  I have been to a lot of museums in my day, but this was different.  It was personal.

I was not sure what I was walking into because I have to be in the right headspace to even talk about Hurricane Katrina.  It was this day or waiting months until the next time I was down, so ready or not, here I was.  I was not sure what I was going to see, but I was a little hesitant that in 3D form something that inhabits my worst reoccurring nightmares would be represented.  This would not be a dream that jolts me awake in cold sweats.  This would be something I would see, touch, hear, and feel.  

It was impossible to not be transported through space and time when I looked up at the timeline on the wall of the events that unfolded for this ravaging hurricane.  I went through my own personal timeline.  I was doing this here on this day and so on and so forth. 

There was a room that represented what the houses looked like after the storm.  I had to remind myself to keep breathing and in this moment on this day I was okay.  This was not my current reality, thankfully.  We had been there and done that. 

A museum about Hurricane Katrina?  I felt like I could have created my own museum on this storm.  In a way, all the survivors are living museums of what we saw and experienced.  The artifacts looked so much like what we had to sort through and throw away.  And I was reminded of that horrible day that we pretty much had to throw all our possessions to the road for the garbage man to pick up.  And I remembered that thought I had then that it would have been better to come back to just a foundation rather than have to physically be reminded of what we once had that was no longer safe to keep. 

A tour started pretty soon after we got there, and we just started walking with the group to hear what the tour guide said.  At the end, she finally asked us where we were from.  Once she learned that we had lived through this experience she said that we could have given the tour.  Yes, we could have, but I wanted to be alone with my thoughts to process my reflections.  I wanted to linger at certain parts, like the gratitude tree.  Yes, we were and continue to be so thankful for all the outpouring of help from volunteers at this time.  Some pieces I did not want to linger by – like a case full of things that looked like what we had to throw out of our house.

But at the heart of it – at the ground zero of my heart – I have to appreciate the resilience that it taught me.  September 11^th was jarring, but Hurricane Katrina was so much more personal to me.  Katrina took away an innocence I had about the world.  Bad things can and do happen.  And sometimes I fear things that I did not know to fear before Katrina.  I always think of the worst-case scenario, no matter how bizarre it may be to do so.  To see the strongest people you know in your life break down and lose it was eye-opening.  To feel like this is the moment that you are an adult because you have to stand up and fight through this was pivotal in my life.

For better or worse, I am not the same person I used to be.  Things that used to bother to me do not.  I go through this mental checklist – do I have water, electricity, a shelter, hot food?  Well, then, I guess it is not that bad.  I am calm in stressful situations.  People have commented on how I just keep at the same level even when things get crazy like in the delivery room, and I am the first one to react with a game plan in a crisis.  Katrina brought that out in me. 

There is a video clip in one of the rooms about Katrina and how you may not have gone through this, but the hope is that you see people’s stories and realize that if they got through this, you can get through whatever you are going on in your life.  Sometimes I have to be reminded of that.  I have to remember just how bad things were and just because things felt that bad then they would not feel that way forever.  And they did not.  We all grew so much through the journey of Hurricane Katrina.  It took over a year to get the house rebuilt, and just because the house was rebuilt did not mean that we were.  It took much longer for that to happen.  But little by little, bit by bit, day by day, we grew stronger and more resilient. 

Much like the Maranda Lambert song, “The House That Built Me,” I had to go to the Ground Zero Museum.  The pictures and artifacts held stories for me.  I had to touch this place and feel it.  And standing in that museum I was reminded of who I once was.  In a strange way, this experience built me into who I am today. Through the brokenness, there was healing and growth.  Sometimes you just have to reflect on how far you have come.  Because as Old Dominion sings, “You can’t keep the ground from shaking no matter how hard you try.  You can’t keep the sunsets from fading.  You’ve got to treat your life like you’re jumping off a rope swing because maybe because the whole thing is really just a shot in the dark.”  At times that is what the experience of Katrina felt like – on a rope swing, not much stability, you may scream a little and want to close your eyes, but eventually you jump and plunge into the next chapter. 

And, luckily, we are still standing.  #resiliency

For more information on the museum, check out http://www.wavelandgroundzero.com/.

salvaging some stuff from the hurricane

I had two boxes of stuff I tried to salvage from the house after the hurricane. I haven't been able to go through it until today. Why today? I don't know. Maybe I was procrastinating something. I took it with me through two moves since then, and today I felt the urge to try to do something about it. It full of things I couldn't bear to throw away. I've realized that I measured my self worth too much on what I did. Straight A's or being valedictorian of my high school class had been my focus too much of my life. When I walked into the house after the water subsided, the first thing I saw was a certificate of mine stuck to the floor that had floated from my room into the living room. It was at that point that I had such a sense of despair. I just wanted to throw it all away and forget it ever happened. It seemed like there was no hope in my life that day. I felt as if it was the end of the world because it was the end of my world as it had always been. My support system had broken underneath me. I knew that I had to stand on my own from here on out because anybody that could have been there for me was too busy with their own problems.

I admit I'm really sensitive about the whole situation. Don't show me baby pictures right now. I get mad about mine that can never be replaced. I look at my destroyed Baby Book, and all I can do is sigh because there's no way something like that can be replaced. Few things bring more emotions to me than this hurricane. I get angry. I get sad. I get nostalgic about the way things used to be. I get confused about why it had to happen. I mourn the loss of people and pets I cared about that are no longer here. Maybe in time I will understand what good this event brought. It is hard to think of any reason right now.

I'm trying to contact yearbook companies to see if I can reorder them, since mine were pretty much obliterated. If anybody has had success in this area, let me know. I made a few phone class. We'll see what they say.

I did find one thing that made me smile. It was something I made in kindergarden. It was laminated, so it was salvageable. It was a crayon rendition of a rainbow, and it said, "You have a choice...you an stay under a cloud or get busy, And find your RAINBOW." I guess I found the answer I was looking for in my box, after all...

random thoughts

Ever feel like everything is well with the world? Like everything is aligned and it's just wonderful? That's how I felt this weekend. My mom's house is almost finished. It's a dream come true to have it done. There were times that it seemed like it would never happen. It took three months to build the house, a few hours for Katrina to devastate it, and almost a year and a half to rebuild it.

It was quite fun to be able to redecorate the house. Honestly, I never thought this would happen, but the house actually looks better now than it did before the storm. I will NEVER be grateful for the storm and never be happy that it happened, but at this point, when we obviously cannot retrieve the momentos and everything else we lost, it seems like some good has come from the situation. The house at least got a facelift. My room is purple with a white trim. I tried to go for a dreamy look because it is a dream for me to finally see this completed. I have a white canopy bed, and I never had one before, even though I've wanted one since I was young. Everything, closet doors, etc. is either white or purple. On the wall, I'm putting black and white pictures of dreams, mainly places that I enjoy. I have a matted black and white collage of NYC pics so far.

I thought of a really great blog topic earlier today, but I was walking and I cannot seem to recall it. Anyway, I think it would be a great social experiment to say exactly how I feel one day. There would be no sugar-coating of anything. When people asked me if I minded, I would say, "YES I DO!" It would be similiar to the movie Liar, Liar, except I would be simply expressing my thoughts in my mind. I think in one day, I would get people mad and nobody would like me that encountered me that day.

back in the Pass for a weekend

I saw Freedom Writers, and it was amazing! I laughed, and I almost cried. I wish that I could be a great teacher like that.

I'm babysitting my youngest sister...just like the old days, but this house isn't the same. There's really nothing in here that was here from before the hurricane. There's no old pictures to make me think about the past, no childhood momentos. It's really strange to be back in here. It's nice, but it's not the same.

Ever think about going to a place that someone used to spend a great deal of time and actually seeing them there, even though they moved away almost a year ago or are no longer living? I think about things like this. I went to my cousin's old apartment, and it was so weird to not see her there. I felt like she should be there. I felt like she should run around the corner or I would bump into her going down the hall. I think about this when I go to the place we worked at last year as well.

After my great-grandmother died, it took a very long time for me to go back in the house. I just could not bear going there and not having her greet me at the door. I could not imagine not hearing her slippers scuffling on the wooden floor. I've been thinking about her a lot lately. It's a cruel joke that once you can truly appreciate your great-grandparents' stories and wisdom, they are ripped away from you. I have so much to tell her. I need her advice. I need her to listen to me. I need her to tell me that everything will be alright. I had a dream about her house the other night, which is really weird since it doesn't exist anymore thanks to the hurricane. I miss her.

the first time I saw it

When I saw the house after the hurricane, for the first time, I had painted a picture in my head that was way better than reality. We knew the house had flooded. My dad had seen the house. He didn't make it seem so bad. After all, he had nothing left to his execept a handful of pieces of bricks and a floor tile or two. I thought, "Hey, we can mop this place out, and clean it up really good." But the second we peered inside, I knew it was something worse than that. Hardly anything was salvageable. The fridge had been knocked over by the water. Sofas were tossed around like toys. Things from my closet door, which had been closed inside my bedroom, which had a closed door before the storm were now at the front door. One of my certificates was stuck on the floor. It had traveled from my room to the living room. But that didn't matter now. It never really did. That meant nothing. Pictures were mush. Collectables broken. Everything left was destroyed by this stench that I don't want to smell again. It wasn't fair. It didn't seem real. It still doesn't. So whenever I hear a really spoiled person complaining about something minute, these images flood my head. Does it matter? No. Did it ever matter? No. People have a way of assigning value to possessions, to things to prove their worth/value. For me, it was a collection of awards I had. When I saw these things tossed about and unsalvageable, rage filled within me - towards an inanimate object - something I could never look in the eye and say that you hurt me. Something I would never see. Something I could never talk to. Something I would never forget. Something finally taught me that my worth is not judged in awards or how well I do because in the face of a natural disaster, it didn't matter. It never did. As my dad said, "We are in survival mode, now." Life, food, water, shelter - those things matter in this life. Advice is so easy to dispense but so hard to take. Sure, it is easy for someone to say, "It's just things. They don't matter. At least you are alive." Yeah, life is good, but it is a heck of a lot easier for you to say that while lost nothing. I liked my things. I would not have had them if I didn't. You think about losing your home and get back to me about how that would make you feel. You think about the guilt of things left undone and things you can never rectify and reflect. I guess something like this makes life easier in a sense. You don't really worry about the little things as much. Grades seem like just a letter on a paper not hardly worth a second glance. Who cares what people think? That's not really what matters. It never was.

some thoughts on Katrina

We have been talking about suffering @Awaken Church lately, and it brings me face to face with where I have come from. Sunday morning I was in such a foul mood. Eppie, my dog, was on vacation in Mississippi because I am going to Nicaragua this month, and I needed him to be watched. Then, my computer stopped working program by program. On the way out the door, I dropped my phone on my concrete porch, and the screen went blank. Since it is a regional company, I could not go anywhere in SC to get it fixed. The dog, even the computer, I could handle. But the loss of texting, which I do almost constantly, put me in a terrible mood. Then, we talk about suffering. And I was reminded of 5 years ago in Hurricane Katrina. The person I was last Sunday would have been HATED by the person I was going through Katrina. I would have been IRATE at someone being upset by those petty things when I was dealing with Katrina. Katrina altered my life is numerous ways. I now judge my life by one date - August 29, 2005- pre and post Katrina.

Going through the experience, and while the pain was still raw following it, I thought it was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to me. But now, 5 years removed, I am not quite so sure.

Katrina altered my life in some good ways.

1. I do not put much emphasis on material things. Not being attached to things frees you more than you would ever believe!

2. I found out how people truly felt. If it was not for Katrina and my dad spending 6 hours to get to us, I would not really know how he felt about me. I needed to know.

3. I do not take things like water and electricity for granted. Although, I will say that I actually have grown to love "simple" living. I think it is good for the soul every once in a while. However, falling asleep in pools of your own sweat in Katrina heat is not very cool. But, hey, everybody else was stinky and gross too at least.

4. I know how it is to live through a natural disaster. Images flashing across a tv screen makes me more than sad. It takes me back to my experience, and I can truly have empathy for the strangers.

5. Nothing is impossible. Katrina happened, even though I grew up hearing no storm would be worse than Camille.

6. I better understand homelessness, and I want to reach out to the homeless.

So, I guess this is things coming full circle. For so long I was mad at the hurricane, the water, God, and even myself for not packing a U-Haul and taking it with me. However, I know it made me such a better, stronger person. Living through THAT, I know I can make it through ANYTHING thrown my way. So this is not me by all means asking for another Katrina, but it is like Garth Brook's song "The Dance."

And now I'm glad I didn't know

The way it all would end, the way it all would go

Our lives are better left to chance

I could have missed the pain

But I'd have had to miss the dance...

But if I'd only known how the king would fall

Hey who's to say? you know I might have changed it all...

I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance

So, Katrina, thank you for teaching me a lot about myself. You shaped me. You grew me. I guess I could have done without your pain, but standing on this side of your dance is not so bad. Katrina gave me a new view from my bedroom into the kitchen!

How far I've Come...

I'm sitting on my Grandmother's steps that lead to an unfinished house. But oh the memories that have been made in this yard! I grew up next door to my grandmother. I'm looking at the property right now. Today I just realized that the magnolia tree that was right outside my window no longer exists. Neither does this big tree that we had plant pots hanging from. It is amazing how things seem so big when you are a child and then so unimpressive and small today. I could get lost in these two yards. I had a tire swing on a tree that is no longer here. There was a weeping willow that I would climb. Today I would break the branches if I tried. The structure that I grew up in is no longer here. So much of what used to be is not here because of Hurricane Katrina. However, a bush from my grandfather's yard that makes these white flowers is still there. I'm looking at it now as I type, and it makes me still feel connected to my past. So much of that past was ripped away by the storm, and I still feel its effects today. Just yesterday I was going to a church that I went to often in high school because my best friend's step dad was the priest there. I was so excited about seeing the inside of it because it really is a beautiful church, and I timed my departure so I wouldn't have an awkward amount of time before the service started. As I drove past it, I remembered that the church is not rebuilt yet. I had no idea where they were holding services these days. Something so simple as going to church became hard. Luckily, through the wonders of text messaging, I was able to find out where service was being held. Things have changed so much.




And all these changes are not bad. Friday was my last day with my sister. I can't really comprehend it now, but I am relieved. I think it will fully hit me when I go back to Hattiesburg without her tomorrow. Also, in just a few short days B will be home. It seems surreal. It has been such a long time. A person really can get used to anything.