The past two+ months have been filled with a great deal of...chaos. Plain and simple. And chaos makes the world go 'round...(right??)
My world went to a month-long road trip, a tornado that destroyed 1/3 of my hometown including everything my parents owned and 50 years of keepsakes but thanks to some freak of nature NOT my parents (!!!!), a(nother) international move (with three kiddos, this time), transforming a(nother) new house into a home, wrangling the two elder *very*-bored-because-they're-stuck-in-the-house-all-day-since-we-didn't-have-a-car-and-can't-walk-anywhere-like-we've-done-their-entire-lives Nelson boys (read: managing alternating periods of mania and meltdowns, with the occasional angelic-I-knew-you-were-still-in-there cuddle times) and spending entirely too much time *attempting* to get things done because the internet (and therefore, our US phone) is offline more than it functions.
Throw in there a bit of time spent learning to *forget* every rule of driving I've known (whether on the right or left side of the road!) so that I could begin to navigate the insanely disordered Dominican roads, a great deal of time learning enough español so I only sound like a *somewhat* babbling idiot every single day (cue the Christmas dinner at the Asian restaurant scene in 'A Christmas Story'...fra ra ra ra raaaaa ra ra ra ra), and some time using said español to arrange activities for the niños and me...
Whew...that pretty much sums my life since leaving our last home on May 21.
The point of all these excuses??
Well, I actually did have somewhat of a revelation during this time!
Rewind to Sunday, May 22...
The Nelson men and I were on our two day drive from D.C. to southwest Missouri to visit my family before heading abroad again. We stopped in St. Louis Sunday afternoon to catch up with old friends, as that is where the Nelson story began as well as where I left my previous used-to-be-able-to-hold-an-intelligent-conversation self!
As we wrapped up a wonderful bar-b-que despite the looming black clouds overhead, we learned that a tornado had hit Joplin (afore-mentioned hometown...perhaps you heard of it). I immediately joked that surely my parents were fine - after all, I had been rushed to the safety of the bathroom no less than 5 times in the past two years of visiting and no harm ever came our way. (Not to mention the numerous times we took cover in the closet growing up.) As we drove to our hotel, I repeatedly tried to reach my Mom and Dad at home and on the cell phone. My mom's mobile often has poor service so I didn't think much of the situation until the landline rang without the answering machine.
Panic began to set in.
Then, I called every friend I have in Joplin. No answer from anyone.
Panic had fully taken over.
Then, I saw live coverage of Joplin...on The Weather Channel. Bad news...Very bad news. A mile-wide tornado. My heart dropped to my stomach and time seemed to go into slow motion and a blur, simultaneously. More attempts to reach *anyone* in Joplin. No success. Irrational plans to drive overnight through more severe weather and find.my.parents. Panic...Sickness...Fear.
I finally heard from my parents about four hours later...A static-heavy phone call filled with sobbing, frantic words, repeated I love you's. I will spare the details, partly because they are all I thought about for so long and partly because there really are no words to adequately describe that fear and chaos.
I will say, though, that the feelings of desperation and helplessness were paralyzing. I have only ever felt such panic and fear when my daughter died, and the thought of losing my parents was simply more than I could handle. And, I wasn't even the one to experience the force of the tornado.
A synopsis of the next several days: The homeless Nelson clan invaded a (gracious) friend's house in St. Louis. The elder Nelson boys had a last minute (first ever) sleepover while the babe, husband and I made a marathon day trip to rescue still-in-shock Mom and Dad. The tornadoes followed us back to St. Louis and we spent all afternoon huddled in the back corner of the basement. Frantic calls to the insurance and utilities companies. Frantic searches for a storage unit in case anything could be salvaged from the house. Panic took control again and we all traveled to Joplin to begin the long process of putting my parents' lives back together. My parents took up residence in a hotel. The still-homeless Nelsons took refuge at my friend's (very gracious) parents' house. Frantic trips to the property to recover anything possible. Frantic searches for a more permanent place to live. Attempts to have a "normal" dinner so Nana and Papa could cuddle their grandsons.
My parents were lucky. Extremely lucky. They survived in a four foot section of the hallway, "shielded" by a fallen wall, and walked away with only minor injuries...physical injuries, anyway. They were able to secure a hotel room and rental car when there are still several hundred (if not more) people living in shelters. The *F5* tornado traveled more than 12 miles, obliterated one-third of my hometown, killed more than 160 people and went directly through my parents' neighborhood.
Their home for the last 15 years, their memories and belongings from the last 40 years of marriage, my brother's and my childhood - as well as their own childhoods - their security, their comfort was merely literally a pile of debris. The house was completely destroyed. My Dad's truck sat where the family room used to be. My bed was crushed under the splintered wood that used to comprise the walls. The boys' bed set up in the office was crushed under more splintered wood. There was no sign of the fireplace that once stood in the living room.
There was no sign of so many things - large, heavy things. Yet, we found a water-logged construction paper Thanksgiving "book" I made in elementary school. The roof, siding, porches...nowhere to be found. But, the toiletries in the master bathroom were mostly untouched behind the closed cabinet door. Two ladders that leaned against a shed fell down in place but the shed and all contents are gone.
And, if the madness of the tornado itself and the following logistical nightmare weren't enough, the looting nearly pushed one over the edge...Less than 24 hours after the destruction, what remained of my Mom's jewelry was stolen, as well as my Dad's tools strewn in the yard. Even days later, more was stolen from the property as my Dad made trips to the storage unit. Price gouging became rampant, as well. Apartments that would normally rent for $350 per month were, somehow, worth nearly $1000. Waste dumpsters that cost $350 a week prior suddenly cost $700. I was beyond disgusted that people would behave so despicably.
But, we saw the best in people, as well. An *incredible* number of friends and friends-of-friends have given all of us so very much during those many weeks. A very dear friend traversed dangerous, uncleared roads to **rescue my parents** from a shelter. People opened their homes to us, traveled to do errands for us, purchased hotel rooms, rental cars, gift cards, and items to help my parents rebuild their life. I simply cannot thank everyone enough for the amazing generosity and love they have shown. My words don't seem sufficient. My family was truly touched to feel such love.
It was gut-wrenching to see the rubble that was once our house. The town looked like what I imagine a war zone must be. Seeing pictures on TV or in the news honestly did not come close to depicting the actual devastation. And, it certainly did not elicit the same emotion as seeing in person places where so many memories were made. Even though I haven't lived there for many years, now, it is still home...And it always felt the same when I would, and now my own family, visit (which are usually quite long since living abroad necessitates economical trips home!). The dining room table where we had so many holiday meals, the mantle that held my Dad's watch fob collection, my desk and end tables my Dad made (as well as many other pieces of furniture), my wedding dress, my childhood dolls, our photo albums. Everything was either gone, broken or soaked.
All that remained of our family's life did not even fill a 5' x 8' storage unit.
 |
| The remnants of my parents' 2000 sq. ft. house |
Ten weeks have passed, now. The ruble that was our house has been cleared away and only a flat, tree-less property remains. My parents have navigated the insurance details. They are settling into a new house, spending endless hours making repairs and finding new details to make it their home even if it has no pictures to hang and no sentiments to place. We are settling into our new home even though I still desperately want to be "home."
Despite losing so much, I was incredibly thankful...Thankful to have that nightmare instead of a worse one. Thankful to have two of my parents' three pets. Thankful to have.my.parents.
But, I also found myself thankful for my (lack of) current 'career.' I was able to spend hours a day for weeks focused on helping my parents. I was able to be in Joplin for some time. The husband wrangled the wee ones (at times, to his protest but he wrangled, nonetheless).
Had I had a "real" (read: paying) job, I would have been bound by many restrictions. And surely angry at not having flexibility.
Workplace Flexibility: Realigning 20th-century Jobs for a 21st-century Workforce
I'll be honest: The last several weeks adjusting in our new home has, once again, left me longing for pieces of my past life. But, (not so) deep down, I absolutely appreciate my current situation.
While I do not recommend experiencing an F5 tornado or its aftermath to elicit a virtual slap in the face to say "Hey lady, you ain't got it so bad" consider me virtually slapped.
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