{Read Part 1: The Build Up}

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Part 2: Through the Storm

As we neared the end of our Maine visit to return to Houston and board our international flight to move to England, Hurricane Harvey developed.  We were glued to the tv set for several unnervingly long days.  As we saw posts from our Katy friends fleeing their homes, we became more concerned for our dog, our house, and all our belongings in nearby storage.  The imminent storm was going to test my inner strength once again.

Our flight to Houston turned into spending another week in Maine.  While I was thankful for our extra time together with Mom, inside I was anxious.  We didn’t hear from our dog keeper for days.  Our international flights were canceled.  All our precise planning was trash. 

We weren’t going anywhere.

I did everything to try to stay calm but inside I was panicking.  It felt like we were being punished for something.  I started to believe that all the bad things happening to our family were signs telling us to stay in Texas.  My husband and I were nearly at each other’s throats.  Our kids were fighting every day.  The stress was felt by all four of us and it was too much to bear.  We were on edge yet trying to maintain composure for others around us.   

We were cleared to return to Houston 1 week later, with our international flight rebooked for England 3 days afterward.  Our dog sitter finally called to ensure us our dog was ok and would keep him till we could return.  She had lost service, like nearly everyone else, hence why she hadn’t called or posted on facebook. 

Our neighbors took photographs of our house from their second floor deck so we could see how high the water was and kept us posted regularly.  With the exception of pool equipment, our house escaped the Harvey disaster. 

But what about the storage unit? 

Similar to the dog sitter, it was impossible to get through to the storage office via telephone. 

In the midst of redoing the pet vaccinations and health requirements to re-certify our dog for the UK, the storage facility called to inform us that our storage was sitting in 6” of water.  It was the next stop on our list of to dos that first day back, but the office beat us to it.  

Our fears of the storm flooding the storage unit were confirmed.

With the help of friends and colleagues, we spent our very last day in our hometown sorting through our belongings.  All our framed pictures, books, children’s artwork, treasured personal items, furniture and electronics were destroyed. 

Although our house survived, it felt like we had lost our home. 

We had made the previous judgement call to keep valuables and personal items in Texas out of fear they would get damaged in the overseas move.  We were so wrong. 

As I peeled my son’s baby picture from a moldy picture frame, I would pause, cry and toss it in the pile with everything else.  There was nothing we could do.  We were defeated.  There was no way I was getting on the plane now.  I just couldn’t. 

I had reached the limit of my inner strength. 

As the day neared an end, my heart was heavy with so much grief.  My mom had cancer.  Our home felt destroyed.  Our meticulous plan to move overseas seemed like it was a total waste of our time.  What had been the purpose of all this?  Why were we so incredibly unlucky?

That night I wanted nothing more than to walk across the street from our friends house where we were staying, open my front door and climb into my own bed with everything in its normal place and time.  My husband and I laid in bed that night hugging each other, comforting one another.  It was the only moment in time that my husband, my rock, broke down, too.  If we could have gone back in time, we would have. 

But now there was nothing to go back to.  Our house was rented, our storage was flooded, and the rest was already scheduled en route across the Atlantic.  As my husband put it, “It’s time to move forward and make a new home.”  I didn’t know how he could imagine going forward when all I wanted to do was go back.  Every bit of hope that was left in me was gone.

The Breakthrough

We were up early the next morning.  Today was the day.  My husband packed up the car for George Bush International.  The only thing left to do was to say goodbye to our friends.

We exchanged awkward apologies.  We spent our last night with our Texas family blowdrying what was left of photo albums.  It certainly didn’t include Mexican food or margaritas.  It wasn’t how we imagined our last night together with our best friends of 6 years.  

The kids hugged their best friends goodbye.  I turned to our neighbors and felt overwhelmed by all the emotions from that summer, never having the time to prepare for that moment.  They had done so much for us and they saw us at our lowest.  From cancer news to a hurricane disaster. 

I don’t know what it was.  Perhaps the fact that it was all coming to an end and the summer turmoil would soon be put behind me, but I started to see past the storms. 

Despite every test of our being, we had gotten through it.  As heartbroken as I was, there was an abundance to be thankful for and to reflect upon.

We had time with my mom and dad during the most difficult time of their lives.  If it hadn’t been this expat opportunity, we would have never been able to spend a months time in Maine.  Even though we were warned that the housing market was down, our house rented quickly so we didn’t have to worry about the financial burden overseas.  We lost the majority of our storage belongings, but we had each other and our house was still in tact. 

More importantly, were the people that were there for us during our most difficult times. 

Days where you could just break down and cry, giving into the storm of storms, because you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.  And they were there to hug you, to comfort you with nothing more than silence because they knew your pain was beyond words, to bring supplies or sort through your ruined belongings with you because you didn’t have the strength to do it alone.  I will be forever grateful to everyone that got us through one heck of a summer.

We had done it.  Despite all the hardship and tests of our will, we made it.  We had each other and we were ok.  This was all going to be ok.

So.  I quit my corporate gig.  I survived a hurricane disaster.  I live overseas trying to learn how to live an English life.  I’m making a new home with my kids, my hubs and my dog.  And I think about my mom every day.

It’s true that some days I feel amazing and other days my heart is heavy.  But I know I’ll get through it, because I can.