Hurricanes. They're no joke. Period.
I know a lot of people were poking fun at those who went to the store to stock up on basic provisions like food, water and batteries to prepare for the storm. I sat by those conversations, but tuned them out and refused to contribute in any way. You know why? Because the people who prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best were
smart. Sure, forecasters can hype up storms, and media coverage is completely redonk: They can cause a sense of panic, which is an unnecessary douchey-move. But to think that some of those people, the ones who
did prepare, are still in the dark while their supplies quickly dwindle... how
funny is that now, huh? It's not, and it never was.
I consider myself to be insanely lucky that no harm came to myself, my
boyfriend future husband, or our home. We didn't even loose power, which is remarkable when thinking back to how the wind was howling, bending trees at odd angles and sending the rain down the road in cascading sheets. My family is unharmed. Some still without electricity, heat or running water. There were some lost trees and some scattered damages. But all are alive and healthy. What more could I ask for? Not too damn much.
You begin to think of everything that you take for granted on a daily basis, and it's overwhelming to think about how lucky you really are. Going to the grocery store. Filling up your gas tank. Making a cup of coffee. Sometimes I think I should not be this fortunate, and guilt slowly begins to bear down on my shoulders. Why did I come out unscathed, while my sister, who is nine months pregnant, has a cold, dark house without running water? How is that f***ing fair, I ask? It's not. Life isn't fair.
My sense guilt has turned into determination to help. We can all help. Disasters happen in this country and in this world every day. You can make donations to the
American Red Cross Disaster Relief Program by calling 1-800-RED CROSS or by texting REDCROSS to 90999. You can lend a hand to your neighbors. Do you have an extra blanket, jacket or gloves to give to someone who doesn't have heat? How about inviting them over for a hot meal and a chance to warm up? Are you going to the store? You can buy an extra gallon of water, some toothpaste or some canned goods for your community relief shelter. Do you know anyone who was evacuated? How about asking them if they'd like to stay at your house, even if it's just for a night or two? In short,
anything can help. Kindness and consideration for others, no matter how small, might mean the world to someone who is in need.
Homes? They can be repaired. Material possessions? They can be replaced. But saying those things
cannot and
will not fix the pain that so many thousands, dare I say, millions of people are bearing, and will bear in the weeks and months to come. Especially not to those who have lost everything, including loved ones. They need us.