“…Old farmhouses entombed in the deep like ghostly sunken ships, their treasured memories lost forever, fish swimming through dilapidated doors and windows as layers of silt gather on a kitchen counter, once tenderly cared for, where a family used to gather.” Memory Lake, p. 5
I’m five foot five, so I figure the sea in my stepsister’s Rockaway town home had reached my collar-bone before it slipped back into the ocean. When she, her husband, and 2-year-old evacuated they had not conceived such damage. Yesterday, despite the aftermath of chaos, flaring tempers, and destruction they rented a truck, found a storage unit, and emptied their rental home. Damaged furniture from the kitchen and living room now sit on the curb. They are camping for the next ten days in a hotel. Then what? They don’t know.
I’m certain, their faith will pull them through, and their joy, for as my step-sis says, “It’s just stuff.”
Photo provided by Tom Weis: http://tomweisphoto.com/gallery.html