Day 6: Keep Going
We’ve been too busy with logistics to mourn or process or grieve. We’ll do that when we move to the place we’ve been lucky enough to rent for the next month in another area of town. We don’t know when our power will come on, when the freeway South to Mike’s work and Ax’s teacher’s homes will reopen, when the clean up will be complete, when or if the water will be turned off or run out. We don’t know so much.
We hope for a lot of stuff. We hope our community will stand strong. We hope our friends will stay here with us. We hope, like the new baby green shoots that spring from the ashes, that our children and we will come back. That we will sleep through the night, that the daily, weirdly painful headaches and nausea soooo many people I know and I are experiencing, will pass. We hope our friends who have suffered unspeakably through this will heal.
And after these logistics, after the still-fresh losses in the midst of ongoing disruption and the hustle to get and to feel settled and feel safe amidst so many unknowns, we hope we will make space, will take space, to mourn, to celebrate, to honor what we had, and is lost. We need to cry. A lot. Some of us already are and have, while still going. Some of us haven’t. I haven’t. I will.
We will not come back the way we were before. It will be something new. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, next week, or next year. We’re gonna keep going. I’m gonna keep going.
Please send love and light to Montecito, and then yourself and those nearest to you.