10/11/2024
I am not ok.
How can I be ‘ok’ when it’s only been two weeks since Helene ravaged the land and communities that I love? It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was paddleboarding on the Rocky Broad River just five days before the storm, and dining in Downtown Marshall only two days before (pictured here). These seemingly normal moments feel so distant now.
While I’m from and live in Henderson County, all of Western North Carolina is ‘home’ to me. I grew up camping in Pisgah National Forest, got married in Cedar Mountain, honeymooned in Hot Springs, rafted the French Broad through Marshall, backpacked in Montreat, celebrated my 30th birthday in the River Arts District, and mourned my mother’s death on the Blue Ridge Parkway. These mountains have carried me through life. These places have formed me.
I can’t shake the words of : “There is a feeling of betrayal when a land you love so much seems to turn on you.” My heart feels broken by this betrayal.
While I’m not okay, I recognize that I am one of the fortunate ones. I’m picking up the pieces, serving those in my community who are less fortunate, and—strangely as it feels—getting back to work.
This week, I created an itinerary for a doctor interviewing at a local hospital and a family here on vacation. Our small businesses, these community-building spaces, need us now. Survivor’s guilt is real, but if we have the means to dine and shop, let’s do it. I’m keeping a close pulse on what’s open and being mindful of those around us who are hurting.
I’m here for the rebuild, because as I told a couple over breakfast this morning, we live in the best place on earth with the best community around. And while our land is broken, our hearts are mending—together.
