Just about three years ago, a storm ripped through our local area. Although I was not in its direct path, it touched my life and people I knew. I was alone that day, returned from grocery shopping, waiting for my son to return from a visit with his grandparents. At the time, I was in a tiny basement apartment, hunkered down and cranking up the heat. The winds outside were brutal, freezing cold. I did not have the tv or radio or internet. It was all down due to the storm.
My son got home safely and we had a quick dinner and went to sleep early. I didn’t know until I went to work the next day that a little town a few miles over had been nearly wiped from the earth. They found road signs from Washington nearly 80 miles away in Dwight. A friend of mine has elderly parents who had their entire house lifted from the foundation.
What followed the storm was a recognition of loss. What followed that was a recognition of love. Benefits were played, collections were taken, goods were donated. And we all knew that it could have been us. I am not a great fan of things – material possessions – knick-knacks. But families, animals, extablished shelter, the very idea of home is precious. Even the sense that you saved an built and did every thing right to have it all gone in one day…
But the love remains, Defiantly. Steadfastly. Always. Without doubt. Full of promise and hope. So here is a poem for that storm and the people it touched. For all that was taken, for the love that remained.
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