Granted

                I am from Houston, which isn’t too far away from the Gulf of Mexico. I have seen many tropical storms in my life and know what a hurricane can do to a city. Mainly the TV taught me that from a safe distance. Hurricane Katrina was all over the news before it hit New Orleans, and remained on it for months after. The pictures of devastation filled the screen and my mind from day to day. While I was thankful that my home had not been hit the way so many others were, I knew that it wasn’t impossible.

                Rita came the year after Katrina. Every person had the memories and fear of Katrina still alive in their hearts. They were still too fresh and it was much too soon to have to deal with another devastating storm. What I remember most about Rita is the leaving. It had never been so hard to leave home. The plan was for my family to drive to San Antonio to stay with my Dad’s side of the family. We were taking my mom’s side with us.

Aunts, uncles, cousins and the like piled into cars packed to the brim with clothes, food, necessities, valuables and keepsakes. There is only so much you can fit into a car. Earlier that day, my family had gone through our belongings and painstakingly chosen what we would bring. My parents counseled us to choose wisely, because it may all that we would have left after the storm hit. This process is a lot harder than it sounds.

“What will I bring?” I thought to myself. I had asked myself this question many times before in life as a kind of entertaining thought, but this time it was different. Then, it was more of just choosing my favorite things which doesn’t carry too much weight of thought. Now, I knew that if I did not take something with me, it may be lost forever. Every solitary item that passed through my hands also passed through my heart. I know that it is not good to love material things, but these things had life. They had stories, connections, and carried memories. Nevertheless, most of these had to be let go.

We took with us what we thought was most valuable. Amongst our chosen items were the home videos, photo albums, heirlooms, dolls, favorite stuffed animals, and crafts we had made as children. After we had loaded all this and much, much more into the car, it was time to leave. There my family stood on the sidewalk, looking at the house that we knew may not be here to greet us when we came back home (if home is even what it would be called anymore). Tearing myself from that spot was one of the most sobering things I’ve had to do. It was time to leave. We needed safely and shelter. At the core, we knew that my family being safe and together is what really mattered.

After we left, nothing went according to plan. We didn’t even get close to San Antonio. It took four hours just to get to the other side of the city! Although my dad’s side didn’t like it, our whole caravan took refuge at my cousin’s house, which was still located in Houston. Also against our expectations, we had fun there. It felt like a family reunion! I should have seen it coming, though. No matter the circumstance, when my family gets together there is no stopping a good time. To top it off, the storm had plans of its own. It wasn’t nearly as fierce as the weatherman suggested and did no great damage to our city. Pretty soon, it was time to go home. Our hopes were strengthened yet again when we saw that our house took on no more damage than the average tropical storm inflicts. All of our worrying and fears were put to rest.

Even though nothing traumatic came of this experience, we still learned through it. What is truly important in life was magnified in our understanding. Every solitary thing we had, while keeping its status as a material possession, was new to us. We were thankful for the many blessings that now made themselves obvious before our eyes. What we had taken for granted before was now precious. Even the truth we already knew shone brighter than before. Yet again, that is what it all comes back to. Truth.