Celebrating April 27, 2011

So if you know why April 27, 2011 is such an important date in my life, then you are probably wondering why the heck I am talking about celebrating this day. In the 4 years since that day, I've had more weather related anxiety than I ever thought possible. Warm weather and a gust of win makes my heart race. My coworkers have had to listen to me strategize about how we'd flip a table and hide underneath it in a hallway or someone's closed office if given the word from our local weather man. I hear sirens and feel like I'm going to vomit. There have been days my anxiety has been so debilitating that I can't work.

And I still have all of those feelings about tomorrow. Trust me. Even typing about it now my heart is racing.

But I'm trying to change that. Little by little. And it starts with celebrating tomorrow.

Here are some things I have to celebrate that I realized as a result of that day:

• The community I belong to as a supporter of Sigma Phi Epsilon. I grew up knowing what SigEp was because of my dad's membership in this organization. But little did I know what an impact this group would make directly in MY life. Trying to find ways to make sure each one of 'my guys' from the Alabama SEC (now officially AL-Beta) was okay. Keeping in touch with the guys in Richmond. I'll never forget being on the phone with Caleb Roberts as he's trying to find me a hotel in the area I could get to since I couldn't get home. And talking to Mike Repasky and telling him I wanted to send the RDs of that year a treat at their last meeting in Richmond, but wasn't sure if I could. Having one of the men, Chad Mandala, who worked with the FSU SEC chapter coming to stay a weekend to help me get ready for orientation and volunteer to help Tuscaloosa rebuild. And getting home one day to a box heavier than I could pick up of supplies for me to take on behalf of their staff. I love SigEp and am so thankful for what this organization has done in so many ways.
• Crying. I HATE crying. Before I got to grad school, I was a regular crier. TV commercials would take me down. Then one day crying became something I seldom did. And it's still something I seldom do. If I cry, you know I've reached my breaking point. And making it home to Jessi and our crazy animal crew that night (which was just 3 rather than the 5 it grew to in the weeks after the tornado) after trying for hours and hours with no avail, I cried. I held Maizey in my arms and let her lick the tears from my face. And in one of the most imperfect moments in life, it was perfect.
• That if I can't be of assistance, I need to get out of the way. I was driving around Tuscaloosa in traffic that you would expect to find in Chicago during rush hour, trying to get home after the storm hit. My roommate, Jessi, was at home with the animals, so I knew they were safe. And I knew my other roommate, Jeff, was stuck on campus like I had been, but unable to get to each other. I kept trying to get home, any way I could think of. And it just wasn't working. So I drove away. Where no one else was going. And I went to a gas station. Filled up my tank. Used the bathroom. Bought some water. And charged my phone. I couldn't help, so I got out of the way. And gave myself a little time to try to reach out to people and try to strategize how I could get home. I think that generally that's a hard lesson to learn. And it may be something I am criticized for every so often, but I know the value of getting out of the way and know that doing just that has served me well.
• Helping and seeing what you don't want to see. The morning of April 28, Jessi and I got up and got ready in the dark (no power) and drove to campus to answer the emergency helplines the University had established.  I was quickly re-directed to answer phone calls that came into the University Recreation, because they were more specialized calls, often of families that couldn't find their students. Because of my work with parents and families, it made sense. I can't tell you the number of times I reassured callers that their student was probably fine, despite the fact that yes, where their student lived was destroyed and they couldn't get in touch with them, not knowing if that was really true. Cell phones were dead all over the city and we had no power, it was hard to tell what was really going on. But I also talked to so many people, who had no connection to me, the University, the city or the state, who were calling to say they were praying and sending whatever they could to us- supplies, water, money, prayers. On the days I went to donation centers, I would unload Uhaul trucks full of water from someone who was spending their day driving 10-hours round trip just to bring us those supplies. I saw power/electric company vehicles from the Northeast come down to help us repair. I regularly saw the Armed Guard walking around the city I called home. And saw vacant lots where sites I saw daily- businesses, homes, restaurants.... just empty.  When you, your community are hurting... it's easy to hide. To be a victim. And hurt. It's painful to help. And to face the pain and the damage. But you can't see the beauty and kindness of strangers unless you do.

Thank you to everyone who helped in any way, shape or form that day. Humanity can be truly beautiful in the darkest moments.  Let's always pay it forward when we can. In celebration of April 27, 2011, I am making a donation to help those in Nepal recover from the earthquake that has rocked their world. People answered the call of us in Alabama that day and I will never forget that. And I will continue to pay it forward in any way I can given the opportunity.

And tomorrow, I will go to work. I will cuddle my girls. I will take a moment, and toast the sky, and thank whoever is upstairs for keeping me safe that day and blessing me with the grace to appreciate all the opportunity I have. I will have a 'normal' day and not take a moment for granted.

T-town, never down. April 27, 2011.