Feelings are weird

Things have been weird in Tampa. We were hit by two major hurricanes in two weeks, with the second being predicted to completely devastate the area. For many of us, it has been rough. And it’s been complicated.

To be honest, even figuring out how to describe it is complicated. For some, Helene and Milton were as devastating as predicted. For many, we were spared.

Still struggling to write this without being insensitive, I’m just going to speak to my own experience. I was fortunate to not have any effect from Helene. Milton, however, was initially projected to go right through my part of the city. The trusty local meteorologist, usually quite calm and optimistic, repeatedly encouraged preparation. The mayor made national news for her bluntness. Those of us not in evacuation zones felt pressure to leave, but our past experiences left us questioning, leave to where? Going south or east could become unsafe if the path changed. Going north would mean competing with tens of thousands of people for the same hotels and gas, and a nightmare returning home. So we boarded up and stayed. The storm was terrifying. From non-boarded windows we watched trees blowing over, water levels getting higher, and wondered if the flying shingles were ours. Neighbors reported windows and doors breaking. Our walls and windows were shaking. It was so loud. We eventually went to sleep and woke up to assess the damage. The streets were flooded, trees blocked roads, but we were okay. We even had power. As the day went on, we learned about those who weren’t okay. And as more days went by, while power around the area was getting restored and people were able to return to their homes, gas became unavailable, and grocery stores had limited food supplies. Many of us who aren’t in a flood zone learned our area might flood because nearby rivers were expected to overflow. Then several of those Zone X neighborhoods did flood. A week later I keep learning about more and more of the places I love that are now unrecognizable.

I feel disappointed and sad. I keep complaining about my own inconveniences. My kids missed 8 days of school. They missed a dance recital and two football games. I’d trained 4 months for the Chicago Marathon and didn’t go. Things look different, with trees gone, roads closed, and debris lining the streets. And the smell outside my house of decaying plants and probably animals, of rotting garbage, and maybe sewage is something else.

I feel grateful. Hours before landfall the storm moved south and weakened. The City of Tampa did and is doing a phenomenal job in their disaster planning and implementation. From setting up sites for gas and food, to using school busses to transport people to and from shelters, bringing in resources from all over the country to restore power and pick up debris, and setting up free childcare so parents can go back to work, it’s uplifting to see so much support in effect so quickly. The entire Tampa Bay community, including city officials, first responders, business owners, and citizens, has shown what community truly means, and highlights our strength and resilience.

I feel empathy and remorse. The storm moving south protected Tampa, but it meant unexpectedly impacting other areas. Some of the most terrible effects were tornados, which touched down in where people had evacuated to. Lots of people lost homes, longtime local businesses permanently closed, people lost lives. And this is only speaking to Milton, it’s not even touching the heartbreak of Helene. How can I be so grateful for my situation when there is so much loss all around me? How can I be thankful the path of the storm changed when that meant others were in danger? How can I be angry for my losses when other people would do anything for the "loss" I had?

Feelings are complicated. They don’t make sense. They change moment to moment. They aren’t consistent. Sometimes we don't know what word even applies. And that’s okay. Whether you’re recovering from a literal hurricane or a metaphorical hurricane, whatever your feeling is, whether it's one or many, find trust in it, and remember that it's valid.