Wednesday, May 22.
It was a normal day out west, with the simmering sun blazing down ahead of summer and me going about my typical routine. But, more than 5 hours away in my hometown that same evening, an EF-2 tornado with 120 miles-per-hour winds was wreaking havoc and massive destruction.
Power lines and tree branches were down. Debris was scattered across roads. Buildings, homes and businesses that once stood tall and firm in their foundation were destroyed.
A tornado that lasted just a few minutes left thousands without power for at least 24 hours. And has continued to impact residents and business owners alike with what has felt like neverending post-storm cleanup and recovery.
I remember getting that call from my mom around 6:50 p.m. after the majority of the storm had already passed. I could hear it in her voice that she was scared, at least she was when she was forced to hide from the outdoor threat in the innermost bathroom with my brother — thank God, they were together during that time.
The storm was so bad that, apparently, my brother put his hand on the wall in the bathroom and felt that the entire house was shaking.
Even though the power lines were down and cell service was interrupted, we were blessed to have just enough so that she was able to call me for a minute. That closing “I love you” felt different in her voice. It sounded different.
After hanging up the phone, all I wanted to do was hug my mom.
I was sitting in that chair, blankly staring into space. Intrusive thoughts were just running through my head. And then, it felt like the inside of my body was shaking, but not my physical self. I was trying to have a conversation with my husband about what was going on, but I was losing focus and having a difficult time concentrating on what I was trying to say.
This was secondary trauma.
My family were some of the lucky ones. They had an old carport — which was already on its last leg — finally come down, a small window break at their house, debris that flew into their yard and tree branches that were uprooted. There was one giant tree that almost fell on top of the house, but the bushes/hedges that line the front windows were a Godsend because it saved my family from even more destruction.
Others, however, were not so lucky.
It just really makes me think of how we should be grateful for what we have in these instances.
Grateful for a house that you can still come home to at the end of the day.
Grateful that friends and family were not injured, or worse, during the storm.
Grateful that even in the midst of the days-on-end power outages that caused a loss of food from fridges and freezers, there are people and businesses who set up distribution sites for the communit.
Grateful that I was able to open up my home for my parents a day early when they were already coming to help me move.
Grateful for so, so much more.
Through the cleanup, recovery and repairs that come with this tornado and the storms that have followed, to my Belton and Temple communities, I am glad you are okay. To my friends and family, I am glad you are okay.
Navarro is the editor of the Hays Free Press & News-Dispatch. She can be reached at [email protected].
