I find it ironic to write a blog post on “Home” immediately after I evacuated mine in a hurricane. One thing is sure: leaving your home in the face of a natural disaster is the litmus test for what is important.
The first time I had to flee a storm was three weeks after I moved to Florida. Given only a few hours to leave, I frantically gathered my computer, journals and photo albums. I probably would have taken more if I were completely unpacked from the move. My worry was mostly about possessions. It makes sense: I was single and they were the main connection to my memories and my past.
I clearly remember locking the door and thinking I might return to nothing. This time was different. My husband and I grabbed his 89-year-old mom, our dog and my laptop. I didn’t have a single thought about possessions. What was paramount in my mind was the safety of my loved ones.
Hunkered down in a hotel together we passed the days of the storm watching and worrying. As much as was possible, we tried to have fun by chatting and laughing and making new memories. We dubbed it “The Reeves Family Adventure 2016 *Canine included”.
At some point during our absence, I realized that home is not a place, not a possession, but a state of mind.