The Very Best News {when your Facade has Crumbled}
Olivia and I took a walk on a Sunday afternoon. The beach was mostly deserted except for walkers tracing the edge of the shore with their footprints. Her little five-year-old feet ran ahead of me scattering sea gulls who stoically faced the gusts of wind coming over our shoulders. Sand stung our bare skin as it lifted off the sugar white dunes. Hurricane Irma was far to our south but the sea was already rocking as the outer bands of the giant storm stirred the gulf waters.
Olivia was collecting treasures---pieces of shells and crumbling sand dollars.
We didn’t find any intact shells. Everything we encountered on our walk was broken. I thought about how many people’s lives are like those sand dollars. Fragile from years of being caught in storms that have overtaken them, their hope eroding as they endure hard things they aren't prepared to handle.
The forecasters said we’d be on the edge of the impact. We decided to stay. If the officials said evacuate, then we'd go. We face cho…
Olivia was collecting treasures---pieces of shells and crumbling sand dollars.
We didn’t find any intact shells. Everything we encountered on our walk was broken. I thought about how many people’s lives are like those sand dollars. Fragile from years of being caught in storms that have overtaken them, their hope eroding as they endure hard things they aren't prepared to handle.
The forecasters said we’d be on the edge of the impact. We decided to stay. If the officials said evacuate, then we'd go. We face cho…
