Harvey +7, Friday Morning September 1, 2017

For some reason I have the following refrain from A Day in The Life by The Beatles going through my head -

Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream

Now, I am not sure what exactly this means but I would be happy if one of two things were accomplished. One, somebody takes a stab at the psycho analysis and two, this tune gets stuck in your head as well.  

Anyway, good news on the home front as our water receded to little less than 8 inches.  This continues to be a good sign and with any luck the rate of decrease will increase. 

We spent the morning, 6:30 or so, going through the house to plan our next steps.  There are several things we need to do to get ready for rebuilding. We need to take lots of pictures to document damage, plan on where to store everything so construction crews have easy and unfettered access.  Fortunately we are already on a Flood Adjuster's list and have talked to them a few times.  (I capitalized Flood Adjuster as I imagine they are now like Czars passing out sentences).  


This time Lisa and I will forage our way out of the neighborhood and go to a friend's house to start to file the right documents on line. Our priority online stops are FEMA and our insurance company. 


I am not sure exactly how I feel about FEMA.  I don't mean politically like whether or not it should exist, I mean personally.  How I feel about applying for help and/or the fact that I need help.  At times I view our predicament like an out of body experience.  I can see the whole thing happening but just not sure I believe.  When I look down on me it is hard to believe that I am 'That Guy'.  

The guy who needs assistance after creating a career to become independent.  I am the guy who sits on his rooftop thinking.  I am the guy wading through water to get to a car.  I am the guy who sits with his wife in silent connection about the events and nothing need be said.  

To come back to FEMA, it makes me believe in some weird way that I have failed. Now I know without a doubt that is not true.  I know this isn't my fault.  Yet, that creeping belief of failure can make it hard to reach out and take the helping hand that is offered by so many. As I write this I think FEMA is just an extension of my community offering to help.  And as for being That Guy - I can come to grips with the fact that I am That Guy. That Guy can and should be humbled not by failure but by the generosity and love that surrounds him.  It is OK for That Guy to ask for and receive assistance.  And most importantly be That Guy who pays it forward and reaches out to the next person.

On to brighter waters, Lisa and I are looking forward to the walk out of the neighborhood together and getting away from the house, the water, and spending time on the future. 

Our spirits remain high (although not 420 high like the Denver crew) and we are more confident than ever that we are going to be stronger as we emerge from Harvey. 


Nat



Sent from my iPhone

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