A good friend and I use this expression a lot whenever we encounter problems. Life isn’t easy. The longer you live, the more you realize the truth in that statement. While some problems are of the “first world” variety, a lot are not.
These last two weeks, our community has experienced problems on an unbelievable scale. People went from having a home and a job or business to seeing everything disappear, all in the blink of an eye. In some terrible cases, friends and loved ones lost their lives.
If you were lucky enough to have minimal damage to your property and avoid serious injury or loss of life to yourself or those around you, you still faced other challenges. Electricity, water, and internet access, all things once taken for granted, were offline for days or weeks. In some communities, these essential services still have not been restored.
Jobs were lost, many forever. The place where my nephew worked was literally swept away. What’s left of the building has been condemned, and the company has no plans to rebuild. I’d love to say this story is the exception. Sadly, it happens with frequency around here. Everyone has a story.
We have had a rough few years, folks. Covid and its pandemic. Chaotic Presidential elections. The situations in the Middle East and Ukraine. It’s bleak.
Normally, I try to end the posts on an uplifting note. I try to offer some comfort and hope. Well, that’s hard to do right now. The trauma of this latest life lesson is too fresh, too raw.
What can you do? Let’s give each other a little grace.
If anything positive came out of this latest tragedy, it is the incredible efforts of everyone around us. Ordinary people stepped in extraordinary ways.
Neighbors took care of each other. Volunteers from many states away rushed here to help. Massive amounts of donated water, food, and other essentials poured in from everywhere at a time when those same people really didn’t have a lot of money to spare.
I even saw a convoy of military vehicles and almost burst into tears. Normally, the emotional reaction would be from fear of invasion. This time, I knew they were coming to help all the poor souls who were trapped in their neighborhoods.
It’s a marathon, not a sprint, as the saying goes. The road to recovery is very long. The next time you are ready to snap at someone, pause. Take a breath. You don’t know what that person is going through. After all, they could be from WNC.