It's hard to think of anything but Moore, Oklahoma this morning. Last week it was Cleburne and Granbury, Texas. We're right smack in the middle between the two areas, and storms are coming our way this afternoon. It's not just the devastating news of so many children lost forever. It's the mindblowing destruction. And after hearing about the horsefarms wiped out yesterday, with hundreds of horses killed, I am wishing more than ever for an underground barn stormshelter..........the helplessness of our children and our animals in the face of such an onslaught of Natures' Fury is all too illustrative of our own feebleness when push comes to shove at the hands of a twist of nature.
I'd love to write some inspiring piece on how at the worst of times, the best in people comes out. It's true, after all. It's just that it may not be over yet and I am bracing myself for the next round that may call for people to abandon personal agendas and leap to the aid of fellow humans. I am bracing myself and fervently hoping it will not be me needing that aid. I am hoping these next two days wash over us with much needed rain and not a single tornado.
For now, all is peaceful. It is overcast and grey, a gentle breeze on a cooler day than the past few hot and humid extremes. Birds are chirping softly, cicadas are sawing their singular song. There is a sense of a quiet expectancy in the air. There is a heavy sadness in my heart. I cannot even begin to imagine what the people of Moore are going through. What the owners of Orr Family Farm who reportedly lost between 75 and 100 horses and saw their entire farm destroyed, are feeling. What the parents of all those little children are coping with today.
In amongst all these stories are the usual stories of miracles and hope. An elderly lady being interviewed describes how the tornado hit and how her dog disappeared - mid interview someone exclaims, there is the dog! And the dog is a few feet from where she stands, silent and stunned, buried in rubble but miraculously alive and well. Horses that wander dazed and confused over the rubble that once was their barn. Mothers that believed their child to be dead but found him or her alive. People that saw the door ripped off of their shelter and thought themselves dead but survived to tell the terrifying story.
Still, it's hard to find a silver lining to this cloud. Little rays of sunshine that peek through the mass of grey and black, yes, but a full silver lining? I guess I'm not there yet. Perhaps because what hit Moore could hit any of us, quite literally, from where I sit, within a couple of hundred mile radius.
A good time to remember - it will be the best it can be. Even when it feels like the worst thing ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment