Remembering moments to share

“We have this moment today,” were the sensitive words of the final song on my Gaither gospel DVD. Tributes were given during the filming of the musical gathering, of the devastation that hit Oklahoma and southern Texas following tornado and hurricane destruction. Larry Gatlin related hearing a reporter peppering a survivor with questions. “Why do you stay in tornado alley? Why don’t you move?” Her response was quite simply, “This is where we live. We’re not moving. “

The simple statement spoke to Larry and he wrote a song in her honour. The group went to the area and via a radio broadcast brought encouragement to the residents. Larry talked about meeting the “homeowners” from the newscast as they sifted through the rubble of what had been their house, looking for a few mementos.

The point made was how do we respond, to treasured moments as well as devastation? We only have the present opportunity.

Later I watched This Old House on PBS and found the team working in Houston in home reclamation following Hurricane Harvey. The location was in a subdivision originally built by Habitat for Humanity. Habitat volunteers had returned to be a part of the team of restorers. I watched the process of abatement, treating for mould, assessing structure. The streets were lined with piles of rubble.

I heard the interviews with homeowners, those who had waded chest-deep down their own streets to escape the rising water. One young mother held her four-month-old son above her head to protect him from the water.

My sister was involved with the High River flooding a few years ago. She and her family had formerly lived there, her kids attending the High River high school. Judy and Dave had moved to a smaller location, but High River was still their town: their doctor, chiropractor, bank and many friends were devastated by the flood.

A friend and former co-worker of Judy’s was evacuated from her condo. Her suite was undamaged, but there was no power and the lot was covered with standing water for some time. Judy and Dave took her in when they discovered that Shirley was staying with a relative in very cramped quarters. Judy was standing in line with Shirley waiting to file for assistance when howling sirens had them running for cover with tornado warnings. Judy chose to be a friend to lean on as long as she was needed.

My cousin’s Sundre home was damaged in 2005 when the river overflowed its banks, saturating the downtown. Her neighbours brought her along to Olds when they fled their home. She arrived at my door, with the clothing she stood in. She had been trying to keep the steady trickle at bay with her shop vacuum and hadn’t heard the evacuation order. The neighbours beat on her door and bundled her into their car. She came in her work clothes and rubber boots.

I had opportunity to welcome her in, protect her and calm her stress. Later, another cousin, along with Carol and I went with her back to the house; we carted out belongings from the basement. It had evidence of backed-up water halfway up the walls with sludge and grit.

We dragged it all out onto the lawn. She had visual proof that her treasures were destroyed. Even after it dried, there was little she could salvage.

The same evacuation order brought some of the folks from the Sundre lodge to our facility here in Olds. We opened our hearts to them and did what we could to make them feel safe and at home.

I have many moments to hold. I’ve worked at the lodge for many years. I’ve learned to be a listening ear, take time to be a friend to the lonely. When I wait in line at the Co-op or the post office, I have had opportunity to be someone to lean on. I sit at long-term care with mom and share a smile or a kind word. We only have this moment. Will we respond or turn away?