It has been almost 30 days since Florence came to visit us. She overstayed her welcome and then the end, she stank like fish, literally.
During that last 30 days, the word "Normal" come up in almost every conversation.
Conversations are guarded at first. You approach someone or are approached and you are hesitant to ask how they have fared through Florence. There are only two responses, "Fine, we are so blessed", or "we lost just about everything".
And shortly after this exchange, somebody says,"I just cannot wait to get back to normal."
The new normal is this, survivor guilt, tree trimming services, mosquitoes, flies, stench, debris, PTSD, mold removal services, dry wall specialist, Disaster Relief Fundraisers,
FEMA claims, insurance adjusters,stagnant water, roofers, painters, displaced families, adjusted school years, mold and mildew specialists and chain saw sounds. This is the new NORMAL and it is here to stay.
Someone said the piles of debris on the sides of the road were like dirty piles of snow plowed into the parking lots after a big snow storm. The piles of debris and the flies are a constant reminder of the Florence and her wrath. Piles of disappointment, sadness and "what next?" They are heartbreakers.
Most of us have never been a part of a Natural Disaster of this magnitude before and chances are, we will not ever again.
But, this is our "New Normal."
Yesterday, on my way to work, I traveled with Disaster Relief trucks on either side of me. Behind me were the last of the power company trucks. In the closed Ghetto K-Mart, the Service Master trucks were getting ready to caravan. Further down the parking lot, about 25 tree removal trucks.
As I took my exit, I looked over at the Disaster Relief Truck and the passenger looked at me. I gave him the thumbs up sign. I know they are on their way to Florida. As they should be.
Our "New Normal" comes with a very humbling feeling. Franklin told his brother to "crank up the air in your house cause you are going to need that cool air." You appreciate power, water, cable, wi fi, cellular phones, all of those basic privileges we have come to treasure.
But more importantly, your heart is humbled. When I saw those trucks, my heart broke and swelled all at the same time. I know these people are earning money, but that isn't the point. They too are displaced from their families but they are kind and helpful. They know how important the jobs they do are and to victims of the storm.
After 9-11, everyone went out and bought flags and proudly displayed those flags in homes and businesses. People were kinder. And slowly, things went back to normal. The flags tattered so they were taken down and not replaced.
After Florence, I was blown away by the generosity, the kind hearts, the helping hands, the support, the smiles and the hugs. One day when I was sitting in the gas line, the man in front of me obviously saw his friend and jumps, and I mean jumps out of his truck. He talks to his friend and then in the middle of the gas station line, he takes his pants off (jeans) and says, "I would give you my shirt but it smells, take my pants, that's the least I can do for you man cause you just have yours, take mine." He turned around in his boxers and got in his truck.
I loved it. It is here to stay. When you stand at curb and decide which of your child's belonging you are going to keep or throw away, it stays with you forever.
And I love that it continues. I love that 30 days later, there is still giving and helping.
There is not a person in Eastern Carolina who doesn't feel for those folks in the Panhandle. Instead, you feel it, really feel the compassion and empathy for each one of those people.
Last night as the power flickered or went off and the winds blew, I felt a bit of angst. I guess it is still so fresh.
The "New Normal" means bigger hearts, helpful hands and humbled actions, all recipes for success and moving forward.
Continue to prosper and walk forward Eastern Carolina. Panhandle, our hearts are with you to do the same.
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