Christmas Tornado Update

Every single time we drive down the highway that leads to our subdivision, one of my daughters asks a question or makes a comment about the tornado. Every single time.  And it's been about five weeks since the tragedy.  Today, it was an innocent remark from my five-year-old. "Mommy, tornado and tomato sound the same, don't they?"  Yes, baby, they do.  Please stop thinking about the tornado. But, of course she can't stop thinking about it when there's still debris every where, when our neighbors' houses still don't have roofs, when we drive past what appears to be a demilitarized zone every day on the way to school as the construction companies do their best to tear down an entire apartment complex that was decapitated by the tornado that swept through Garland on the same night its relative visited us.  No, she can't be expected to put it all out of her mind when it's still staring her in the face every day.
She asks questions like, "What color was the tornado? I bet it wasn't pink because pink is nice." Or "Did our house that we used to live in get tored up by the tornado?"  Any time we see a building under construction, she just assumes it is because the tornado ruined it. And while Imma doesn't ask as many questions, I hear what she is not asking in her silence.  The bottom line is my children don't feel safe--and I hate that. Because, while I  can install an alarm, lock my doors, get a really big guard dog and a gun, there's absolutely nothing I can do the next time the wind decides to turn into a monster.
We are getting a safe room installed in our closet under the stairs. It will be in by the end of March. Not surprisingly, the company that installs them is very backed up right now.  We looked at several options, and while it would have been cheaper to get a small storm shelter outside, we feel like this is a better choice for us. It will be inside our house, which should make it even safer, and we won't have to worry about going outside in a storm to get to it. Here's to hoping the sever weather holds off until it's installed, because even if there's no threat of tornadoes in our area, the second it starts to thunder again, my children are going to freak out--and so am I.
I'm still jumpy at the sound of a brisk wind, or an unexpected loud noise. I find myself looking twice at anything that looks out of place or suspicious. Sometimes I even question buildings under construction or areas along the road that look slightly different.  And I'm thirty-something years old.  I can only imagine how difficult it must be for those who lost everything, those still in hotels or sleeping on sofas--especially the children and the people who actually lost loved ones.
The tornado taught me a lot of lessons about things I never even pondered before. For example, did you know home owner's insurance does not cover debris removal out of your yard unless it came from your own home? Imagine that! Also, deductibles  suck! Despite the fact that we had a relatively small amount of damage, this tornado is costing us quiet a bit because our deductible was so high. Also, it is difficult to replace an eight foot tall front door....
I also learned that we have amazing neighbors--and by neighbors I mean people who live within a few hours' driving distance. We had a ton of people come help clean up our yard--most of them I don't know and will probably never see again. I learned that our trash company, Barnes Waste Management, is incredible. They hauled off all of the debris the insurance company wouldn't cover---for free.  The volunteers stackd it up and Barnes hauled it away.  The people at my schools are also pretty amazing. I say schools because I had people show up from two schools ago--and I don't switch schools that often.  Three worlds collided for me that day--but in a good way. And those who couldn't actually come and help gave us a gift card to help replace the girls' Christmas decorations that got trashed.  How thoughtful is that?
It was confirmed for me a few weeks ago that one of Lucy's strengths is her Emotional Overexcitability. That may sound like a detriment (and in some ways it is) but what it really means is, much like her mother, she wears her heart on her sleeve. This is going to affect her because she feels other peoples' pain. She is not only sympathetic, she is empathetic. I understand that because I am exactly the same way.  So it will take us a while to work through this. But we will. And while it may seem that we need a bit of perspective (after all, our house is relatively fine) it isn't that simple because in the midst of our own terror that there might be another tornado creeping around outside somewhere waiting to sneak up on our own house, we are also pondering what it must be like to be one of those four surviving children who lost their baby sister in the tornado, or our friends down the street who lost their home. We get that in a very real way. So don't see our tears and fears as selfishness; on the contrary, much of our dismay is on behalf of others.

This picture was taken about three hours before the tornado hit our neighborhood.

One of the ways that I can work on my understanding and acceptance of the tornado is to write. It helps me process. It helps me resolve.  And if my words are informative or comforting to others, then that makes them even more meaningful.  While I am fully aware that 99.9% of the human population has completely moved on from the Christmas Tornadoes, I also realize there are still others out there, like this cute little girl next to me, who are still considering the what-ifs and the what-might-bes. Here's to hoping that pondering, preparation--and a whole lot of prayer--leave those questions unanswered indefinitely.