The Aftermath

Everything is gone.

The flash flood swallowed half of the house. It…

• went up as high as 6-feet (my guesstimate as per stories gathered)
• happened all too sudden that my grandma had to leave everything (all non-basic items) behind.
• wasn’t anything like she experienced in her 94 years of existence.

However, I need to note that it was normal for the area to get flooded – a recurring pain-in-the-ass event that happens whenever it gets hit by a bad storm.

You can say it was expected. Only this time, the flood kept rising higher and higher than the usual. People were forced to move to higher grounds before they get trapped or stuck by it. 

Those updates that were received and shared through text messages has gotten all of us (her immediate family) into a roller-coaster of feeling worried, relieved and helplessness. But we/she was blessed to have neighbors, friends, and other extended family members who made her a priority even they themselves are in desperate need of help. Because of them, she was safely moved to my cousin’s two-story house. They might not read this but I want them to know their efforts weren’t unrecognized. I don’t know how to do that just yet but I’m going to find a way.

She’s alive – that’s all that matters to me, to us, her family. Everything is good now but I couldn’t imagine the thought of losing almost everything:

• that bed you comfortable sleep on for 50-yrs of your life? Gone.
• television you watch to pass time and refrigerator to keep your food fresh? Gone.
• photo albums, letters, gifts, clothes and all other things that meant something – GONE.

It’s so easy to say…

Move On

“Move on. It’s over. Keep moving forward!”

Easy to say because I wasn’t there to experience their horror. Even though it’s coming from good intentions, it feels like it’s coming off as insensitive.

Perhaps the best response is to stay silent and acknowledge her loss. NOT by giving her advice on how to move forward.

How would you move on after losing everything you worked so hard for?

I don’t know. But if I was to put myself in their shoes, I’d probably start by cleaning up the mess the flood left behind. Reorganize. Start (again) with a clean slate. Tabula Rasa.

Stoicism has taught me to not to be too emotionally attached to the bad sh*t that happens to us. Set a time frame to cry, grieve, to feel and acknowledge the pain. But beyond that time frame, it would be best to no longer allow our sadness to stop us from moving forward.

Instead, take action, rebuild and live in the real world once again. A new world where we have the opportunity to make it better than what it was (without forgetting how good it once was). But I had to pause and think when my grandma said: “I can go back to that house, but when I do, it will be no longer ‘my house’ because everything about it will be different”. 

All material things can easily be replaced with money. I’m sure she’s heard enough from all of us, telling her that the things she lost will be replaced. But what was lost was not the material itself – not the physical thing – but the memory and the meaning stored in it. I think that’s what makes her sad. I understand how hard it is for older people to be open to new things. Most of them are stuck in their ways.

However, doing that only makes it harder for them to adapt to their new (current) situation. Easier said than done. I get it. But if you don’t do anything about it, then you end up losing more…yourself. Feeling sad is healthy, as long as you don’t let it fully control your life. And if we slip and let it go out of control, who do we blame? God? For giving us such a difficult challenge?

Or perhaps we should blame ourselves? Because of our inability to adapt to the situation?

What do you think?