When we were little, my mom was gone during a storm. The sirens started to go off, and my sister started wrangling all animals (both pets and stuffed) into a tiny closet in our basement. Camille was supremely stressed out, and I was supremely excited.
On Friday, it seemed most of Kentucky was in a flurry of sirens and alarmist weather reports that we were going to get hit hard. To be honest, I had a particularly flippant attitude about it. Maybe because of how I slept through Irene happening, or maybe just because I had an unreasonable expectation that it didn't happen where we live.
Camille and I took photos as the sky grew darker. We don't have sirens since we live out so far in the country. Our weather radio was in a silent mode we didn't know how to switch. All of the news reports said the worst was going to hit Lexington - my former home, and current residence of some of my most treasured friends.
Soon enough, we received phone calls from my dad and from my uncle. The storm front was heading right for our home, so we went to the basement.
The sky was green and the wind was moving in a way that wasn't familiar.
Our electricity went out, and for a moment our cell phones lost signal. It was over in just a moment for us. We didn't even have debris in our yard.
Very quickly we learned that just a few miles from our home, many were not as fortunate. As we looked through the slideshow of affected homes, we knew most of them.
Families of our church and schools, and homes we drive by every day. Completely gone. There was one woman whose home we stopped by to buy fresh vegetables and salsa. Even if you never stopped, she always waved as you drove by. Her home is broken beyond repair.
The same night that I fell asleep safely in my warm bed, I was thankful but simultaneously burdened to make sure to help our community.
My prayers are with the families that have lost loved ones.
If you'd like to make a small donation to the Red Cross, you can do so here.