Jesus, Rebecca. I’m awed and dumbstruck. At your bravery and at your piece.
I’m on the gulf coast in an island off the coast of south Louisiana. I’ve had to evacuate for a lot of storms and have ridden out a few smaller ones. I’ve never braved the tides to reach in after another human. I have had that sudden piercing epiphany of all the things that exist when the comfortable distraction of ‘things’ are washed away with the surge. Faith. And hope. And love.
My heart is broken for Appalachia, but bursting with love for the everyday heroes. Like you.
I didn’t feel brave at all. I think when you hear a little kid crying for help your own survival instincts kick in and you don’t even think about it. But I am proud of myself for doing it. I hope to find these sisters when things settle. The police came and got her and I lost the paper with her last name on it. Which bums me out. But I’ll find them.
Excuses. Limiting beliefs. Lack of vision?....lol....been going through some stuff....getting back to fine now. Expect an increase of inspiration any day now. LOL. Be safe up there. I didn't realize you had even come back to the east side. What a trip. Hurricanes in the mountains. WTF is next?
Our town is okay. We were in the cone before the storm shifted. I am so so glad that you are okay. Helping towns and people to the east of us is everything in my town right now. Everyone is doing something. So glad for honest writing like yours.
Thank you Mary! I’m going to volunteer here until my work opens back up. So grateful to people like you who are helping out in all the ways that make a difference!
My goodness, I'm also awed, also dumbstruck. Your description of it is heart stopping, made me break into a sweat, incredible writing. I hope you find those girls again. And the dog is ok too, right? You're so brave, and yes, I get it, the adrenaline kicks in, and you have every single thought in a big messy brain spaghetti. But you're a hero.
Thank you Francesca I didn’t find the girls but I did get word from a neighbor (of the Dad) that they had come last week to get their cats and take them to their moms house. So that’s good. Big Hugs to you for feeling it right along with me!
I just want to reassure that I did something similar in far less scary conditions as the only one who saw where a child went under during a flood and I literally thought to myself "I don't want to be doing this, I don't want to be a hero" as I walked to him, as I did it. the whole time, the water wasn't higher than my chest, and still, that was my thought. I too, have felt like "what kind of a person thinks this" and felt ashamed at myself and my thoughts.
but over the years, I've thought about that inner dialogue a lot and come to the conclusion that it's just the ancient part of our brains trying to keep us safe as the more developed parts of our brains say: you will do this. you will do this because that person, that child, needs you. you will do this because there is no one else. (or that someone else doing it cannot do it alone.) you will do this so you can look in a mirror tomorrow and every tomorrow after.
I have a feeling it's a normal response and it's the action that counts. that child years ago went home with his grandmother and I walked out of that water and we both lived. your young one lived because you, her sister, and that gentleman were there and took the actions you could take and you got out of that water and all of us are alive to tell the stories.
Awww damn thank you for saying that. Because I literally DID NOT feel like doing it at all. It's a weird feeling. Big hugs! Thank you so much for the thoughtful comment.
This is stunning and reads like fiction, yet it’s cold hard fact and fear and bravery and strength all rolled into a broadside of a smack in the face piece of writing. I’m so glad I found your writing here.
I hope things get so much better for you very soon.
Gah, Rebecca. I just can’t describe the impression this makes as I read. All the applause for such bravery, your writing and for love. So relieved you all made it back out. So sorry about the storm devastation. x
Jesus, Rebecca. I’m awed and dumbstruck. At your bravery and at your piece.
I’m on the gulf coast in an island off the coast of south Louisiana. I’ve had to evacuate for a lot of storms and have ridden out a few smaller ones. I’ve never braved the tides to reach in after another human. I have had that sudden piercing epiphany of all the things that exist when the comfortable distraction of ‘things’ are washed away with the surge. Faith. And hope. And love.
My heart is broken for Appalachia, but bursting with love for the everyday heroes. Like you.
I didn’t feel brave at all. I think when you hear a little kid crying for help your own survival instincts kick in and you don’t even think about it. But I am proud of myself for doing it. I hope to find these sisters when things settle. The police came and got her and I lost the paper with her last name on it. Which bums me out. But I’ll find them.
That would be beautiful if you can find them!!!!
I am so glad you survived. I am totally, and utterly in awe if your participation in this Journey of yours. All my love.
Thank you luv! What's going on with da music?
Excuses. Limiting beliefs. Lack of vision?....lol....been going through some stuff....getting back to fine now. Expect an increase of inspiration any day now. LOL. Be safe up there. I didn't realize you had even come back to the east side. What a trip. Hurricanes in the mountains. WTF is next?
haha gawd how life can get us off track! We just gotta get back to the soul of things as soon as we can!
Gut punch, Rebecca. Thank you for doing the hard thing. For showing love.
Thank you Lyndsey! Love is all there is!
No words. with Love from your WNC neighbor and thank you for this. I will have to comment more thoroughly later. Just bless you.
Where are you? Are you ok? Do you need anything?
Our town is okay. We were in the cone before the storm shifted. I am so so glad that you are okay. Helping towns and people to the east of us is everything in my town right now. Everyone is doing something. So glad for honest writing like yours.
Thank you Mary! I’m going to volunteer here until my work opens back up. So grateful to people like you who are helping out in all the ways that make a difference!
I am in Murphy in Cherokee county.
My goodness, I'm also awed, also dumbstruck. Your description of it is heart stopping, made me break into a sweat, incredible writing. I hope you find those girls again. And the dog is ok too, right? You're so brave, and yes, I get it, the adrenaline kicks in, and you have every single thought in a big messy brain spaghetti. But you're a hero.
Thank you Francesca I didn’t find the girls but I did get word from a neighbor (of the Dad) that they had come last week to get their cats and take them to their moms house. So that’s good. Big Hugs to you for feeling it right along with me!
“Bathtub vertigo”
I don't even know where that comes from haha. But it's a feeling! Thank you so much for reading and supporting. Big Hugs!
Wow. Wow wow wow. Tears. Love to you. Phew.
Thank you so much for reading and feeling this. Love to you and big hugs!
Thank you for sharing this. It's so honest and strong. I'm amazed by you, inspired and utterly heartbroken. 💕
Thank you for the love. It means the world it really does! Big Hugs and loves from Two Bit and I!!
I just want to reassure that I did something similar in far less scary conditions as the only one who saw where a child went under during a flood and I literally thought to myself "I don't want to be doing this, I don't want to be a hero" as I walked to him, as I did it. the whole time, the water wasn't higher than my chest, and still, that was my thought. I too, have felt like "what kind of a person thinks this" and felt ashamed at myself and my thoughts.
but over the years, I've thought about that inner dialogue a lot and come to the conclusion that it's just the ancient part of our brains trying to keep us safe as the more developed parts of our brains say: you will do this. you will do this because that person, that child, needs you. you will do this because there is no one else. (or that someone else doing it cannot do it alone.) you will do this so you can look in a mirror tomorrow and every tomorrow after.
I have a feeling it's a normal response and it's the action that counts. that child years ago went home with his grandmother and I walked out of that water and we both lived. your young one lived because you, her sister, and that gentleman were there and took the actions you could take and you got out of that water and all of us are alive to tell the stories.
* Hurricane Floyd, September 1999.
Awww damn thank you for saying that. Because I literally DID NOT feel like doing it at all. It's a weird feeling. Big hugs! Thank you so much for the thoughtful comment.
it is a very weird feeling that you have to literally fight.
(my theory is this is more common than we know and that’s why when someone says to someone “you’re a hero” they say “no, I’m not.”)
big hugs back!
riiiight? People are telling me I’m a hero and I feel like a fraud!
yeah, I think that's why.
just hold to the fact that you actually did it. and there's a little girl who is alive tonight and another little girl who is not heartbroken.
that's really all that matters.
* this may have been Hurricane Isabel 2003. I'm not 100% sure which it was.
Holy. I am so sorry. 😥
Thank youuuu!
This is stunning and reads like fiction, yet it’s cold hard fact and fear and bravery and strength all rolled into a broadside of a smack in the face piece of writing. I’m so glad I found your writing here.
I hope things get so much better for you very soon.
I’m so glad you found me too! Thank you so so much!!
Incredible. I have goosebumps. So edge-of-my-seat. Thank you ...
Awee thank you for the kind words. Writing is healing. Love to you!
Gah, Rebecca. I just can’t describe the impression this makes as I read. All the applause for such bravery, your writing and for love. So relieved you all made it back out. So sorry about the storm devastation. x
I'm just so happy to be back online and writing. And getting back to writing every day!
So relieved you're back!