There and Back Again

You just want to help. You collect items and deliver them to shelters. You offer your time, they say we have plenty of volunteers at the moment. Go check at this place or that. You walk around in a haze because you honestly do not know what to do. How you can make the biggest impact. Financial donations of course are helpful but not meaningful. You want to offer help to those who are under-recognized. Maybe undocumented. The fear of deportation keeping them in their homes. You want to be anonymous, sneak in and do some cleaning, then vanish into the shadows. You do not speak Spanish, but you understand anguish. You speak devastation fluently. You are seen as a foreigner, so you have to coax your way closer. Smile, offer a hand to shake. They will not let you close but they will accept supplies. They will smile and nod.

There are shelters and churches, food banks and police stations but many refuse to go, to seek help. There are so many in need, that it simply becomes overwhelming for you, you can only go there and back again. You can walk neighborhoods and greet people. You can offer water bottles and words of encouragement. But you can not erase the fear and trepidation in everyone's hearts. You are safe now, helicopters fly over head. The National Guard is patrolling, offering assistance and for those who feel secure, there is acceptance. But for many they remain behind curtains. All you can do is leave supplies on the lawn in plain view. You do not want to encroach. So many volunteers, so many in need.

The haze becomes fog as the guilt of minor damage, the remorse you can't do more, wraps around you. The only thing you can do is to escape, at least for a little while. Then the news is reporting the condemning of sleeping first responder's, more stigma you place on yourself. But, after a respite and a moment of reflection you begin to recognize the spiral and find the railing to venture back up and out into the sunshine. Survivors remorse is a horrible feeling. The sigh of relief that you can find groceries on the shelves of the local supermarket and put gas in your vehicle, makes you feel more isolated. You have to tune out and focus on routine, delve into family because they are traumatized too. This event has caused so much physical and mental demolition it is palpable. It hangs in the air like a dense fog, the same murky reality that encompasses you.

Find solace in family. There is no guilt to be had there, yet it lingers thick like vapor, creeping into every crevice. You are no good to anyone locked in a dark room, hidden under the covers that you have decided are cotton linens of despair. You must navigate out, talk to others who escaped Harvey with little damage. You need to look into the eyes of those you have lost and instead of seeing surrender, see determination. This lessens the miasma and under the density of confusion and isolation you will find commonality, community, positivity and faith. Guilt is causing pain twice. You can not help others if you are in pain. Believe in making a difference any way you can and make a difference. There and back again. To the place of mindfulness and joy that guides you. Spread the joy and watch the haze become sunny skies.

This is dedicated to the countless volunteers who are simply heroes. Doing everything within their power to make a difference.