Hurricane Blurricane 2

Fast forward to 2008.

2008 started out as a great year for me. I married Hubby in March that year and taught my most favorite class ever. But, not before things got a little "turbulent."

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, around the middle of August, 2008, we had Hurricane Gustav. Although we were ordered to evacuate by the powers that be, Gustav turned out to be a dud. Maybe because of his name, who knows? Anyway, about 2 weeks later, we start hearing about Ike.

After Father's experience with Hurricane Rita, (see Hurricane Blurricane 1), he is more than willing for me to be in charge of hurricane evacuations. For Gustav, as I said earlier, we went to our daughter's house with the parental units and some friends. Basically, it was a big party and another chance to play with my grandson. So, when Ike appeared on the scene, I was the one not excited about another evacuation. We had just started school the week we evacuated for Gustav, for NOTHING, and I certainly didn't want to leave again so soon. But, as information about Ike kept coming in, we realized we'd be evacuating yet again, but with a whole different outcome.

This time we all decided to evacuate to Waco, where my uncle and aunt live. Growing up, WG had been my favorite uncle of all time. He always seemed so happy to see me and always had time to talk to me, even as a child. Hubby had never met him, and he, too, has family in the Waco area, so it seemed like a good plan.

As Ike approached landfall, it had become clear that it was going to do massive damage - both water and wind. It was going to hit land at a Category 3 and was a huge storm, mass-wise. For me, one of the hard things about hurricanes is the anticipation of the storm's landing. It's like getting a shot - you know it's coming, but you're not sure how bad it's going to hurt. Basically, you sit around watching all 20 different weather stations, tuning in to the ones who are offering the best scenario for your area and hope for the best.

On the morning after Ike hit, our neighbor, who had chosen not to evacuate, pretty much because she runs a zoo in her home, called Hubby to tell him that our house was fine! Hallelujah! Now all we had to do was wait for the officials to tell us that we could go home...but, actually, no...

About 15 minutes after our neighbor called, I was putting on my make-up when I heard Hubby answering his phone. It was our neighbor again. Hmm, I thought, that's not a good sign. It seemed that our neighbor had gone to look at our house alright, but had stood in the front yard, where all appeared fine. She missed the 90 foot pine tree that had fallen and sliced about 12 feet off the right side of our home. Yeah, minor discrepancy...

Thus, begins a very difficult time in our lives. Hubby and a good friend went home the next day to assess the damage. He called me and said that it was bad, but if Son had been in his bed, he would've been severely injured or worse, since the tree landed on his bed. The bed was in splinters. Plus, the whole side of the house was missing, making the house unlivable.

He took lots of pictures, then returned to Waco. I looked at the pictures, trying to register in my mind that I'm looking at my home. Lots of tears, but I pulled myself together and told myself I could handle this...

The first time I saw the house was a few days later when we went home to pack and meet with the man who was going to remove the tree. I tried to be so brave, but was just unprepared for what I saw. It looked like a wrecking ball had slammed into the side of our house. It was horrible! Son's room was unrecognizable. I was supposed to be packing and figuring out what I needed to take with me to my in-laws, where we would be living until our home could be repaired. However, all I could do was wander through my home, which now smelled like mold, and cry.

Then, here they came, my sisters-in-law! It felt almost like the cavalry, riding up on white horses. They helped me make decisions about what I needed to take and what I could temporarily live without (like, "No, I don't really think you should take 18 pairs of flip flops, especially if you can't wear them to work.") They gave me gentle suggestions and easy packing jobs, cutting up the whole time. And, before I knew it, our packing was done. I don't know what I would've done without them.

So, for the next 6 months, my little family lived with my in-laws. They are precious people and were so gracious to offer their home to us. We decided, since we had to remodel, we might as well update our kitchen and do some painting in other unaffected rooms while we doing the repair work. So, Hubby and I began arguing (immediately) about paint color, wall textures, and whether to have a single or double sink in the kitchen. It was a very stressful time, but somehow we survived. We were able to move back into our REMODELED home on Valentine's Day in 2009.

Here's my take: I hate hurricanes, did I mention that? Just hearing the word and approaching June 1 each year is enough to make me throw up a little bit in my mouth. But, in the words of some profound scholar somewhere, Life is hard. Yes, hard times are going to come for all of us. The trick is allowing those hard times to make you stronger...wait, I think there's a song about that...

The silver lining: I got a remodeled, updated kitchen and newly painted rooms from the situation...thanks, Ike...I think...

What's your take?