Monday, September 18, 2017

Perils of Hurricane Irma

For the first time in my life, I hate living in Florida.

As I sat outside our motel room this morning, enjoying a gorgeous blue sky Florida morning, I couldn't help but think back to a week ago today when The Captain went back home after Hurricane Irma passed to make sure all was well to go back home.  Initially, I was not worried because Tampa was spared with a Category 1 instead of Category 5 hurricane.

It is something that I can't face at this time . . . I have not seen it, nor do I want to even see a photo.  A huge limb on a chunk of our house, pierced through the roof and even some of the ceiling, affecting several rooms.  The Captain tells me parts of the ceiling and insulation is scattered all over the place. 

What once was my favorite part of the house, the back room whose walls were made of glass, were smashed, exposing the house to future storms, exposure to the bare elements of nature and further deterioration of the roof and ceiling.  I can imagine the puddles of water and sand making a muddy mess on the floor.

I am feeling lost, like a gypsy wandering in the wilderness of FEMA motels, not knowing if the temporary housing will continue and for how long.  

So far FEMA has been awesome.  We will see when we hear what the inspector has to say and what they are prepared to do for us.

In the meantime, we can't touch the damage and there is  another hurricane threatening to hit Florida.  It is almost unbearable to think about . . . time is just making a bad situation worse.  The heavy limb sinks a little bit further with time and every rain that decides to come around.  Thank God our rainy season is winding down, although it is peak hurricane season.  Until the inspector sees the damage, we can't even put a tarp on the roof to prevent more water from gushing in.

I'm thankful that The Captain and I had the good sense to evacuate to a local motel when we were faced with a Category 5 hurricane colliding with our world.  We did not have to experience the ravages of the storm ripping through the house not knowing if we would live or die.  God does not give us more than we can handle and after 34 years of living in that house, that little voice in my head told me to get out this time around.

Hurricane Irma hit Florida as a Category 5 hurricane . . . I'm so grateful that we got the west side of the hurricane after it was downgraded to Category 1.  There could have been so  much more damage.

Pray for the victims of this season's hurricanes which have come at us with a vengeance we have not seen since Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans.  Our damage is minor compared to others . . .

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