Reflections of the Storm: One Year After Helene
A year has passed since Hurricane Helene swept through and left her mark. The waters receded, but the damage did not. What she took was more than a home. She carried away safety, certainty, and trust. What remains are scars, fragments of hope, and the ongoing work of piecing together a life forever changed. This is not just a story about a storm, but about survival, the quiet weight of loss, and the slow, uneven work of healing.
One year ago…
disaster struck.
And I am still trying to pick up the pieces.
Struggling.
Emotionally.
Physically.
My safe space…
remains broken.
The trauma runs deep.
Wounds no one can see,
carved into the quiet places of my heart.
They’ve become scars,
bright inside me.
Reminders that healing is slow.
They will fade…
but not soon enough.
Helene didn’t only destroy
my home,
my personal space.
She shattered
my hope,
my drive.
My faith…
that living the Golden Rule
meant kindness would always come back.
That good karma would meet me
when I needed it most.
Sometimes, it doesn’t.
And the waiting wears me thin.
Still, I hold on…
because even tired hearts
can believe in kindness.
Yet…
I cannot forget.
The few who proved my faith was not misplaced.
The strangers and friends
whose random acts of kindness
were sparks in the darkness
small lights I still carry with me.
And the work I poured my grief into
a place where broken pieces of myself
still found purpose.
One year later,
I am not the same
but I am still here.
And sometimes…
survival itself is the victory.
Closing Note to Readers
If you’ve lived through your own storm, whether it was wind, water, or something no forecast ever predicted, you know that survival is never simple. Healing takes time, and sometimes all we can do is hold on long enough to see the small lights shine through.
To those who showed up for me: thank you.
And to anyone still standing in the wreckage of their own storm: you are not alone. Your survival is a victory, too.
