Over a year ago, I got a taste of a flood. My husband and I were spared from losing anything, but we watched as our fellow Nashvillians watched their homes be destroyed by rising waters.
Today, I sit from afar with my heart breaking over the wildfires in Texas. This drought… this horrible, horrible drought that I wrote about just a couple weeks ago left me with a fear… a fear that is being realized today. Already back in July, I looked around and thought, “One, just ONE carelessly tossed cigarette out of a car could destroy so many homes… could take lives.” The grass crinkled under your feet, parched and dry. It would only take a spark… only take a single spark.
This last weekend, a fire broke out in my hometown. It was, thankfully, contained without loss of life, but not without the loss of a home. It started due to a squirrel getting caught in an electrical wire… something that would make a person chuckle, or that would perhaps not be a big deal “normally” set off chaos and destruction.
When I read about the fire, my heart sank. The area of town being one I know well — one I could envision as vividly as if I was there — made the news so hard to take. I called immediately to find out what I could, to make sure others were okay. My greatest fears with this drought we being realized…
…then right on the heels of that came news of the Bastrop fire. I worried suddenly about anyone and everyone I know or knew who lived there. Were they okay? I’ve watched the footage on TV. I’ve read many articles on-line. I’ve looked at countless images. They all tug hard at my heart. Reports of fires in California each year strike up an emotional response as well. I try to imagine being in the victims of the fires shoes. But the fear I’ve felt the last few days, as I watch Texas burn, just took that same emotional response and cranked it up to about a 15.
In an almost cruel irony, Nashville has had rain the past two/three days. Our temperatures setting new record low highs. I wished I could send the rain to Texas. I wished I could somehow capture it, and send it down in tanker trucks. I wished they’d just get a break already.
I feel so helpless… so lost on what I can do. I did at least (after several various Google searches) find this list of organizations working to help the victims of these fires. Many of these are for local assistance, but others have addresses where donations can be sent to help. I plan to do what I can to help from here. Perhaps I can hatch a plan of my own, but until then… I am grateful there are organizations out there with the means to help.
