The Hurricane is Coming: This Time I'm Not Evacuating

Last weekend I held the second annual Mother-Daughter Clothing Swap in our backyard. We hosted the first one a year-and-a-half ago, just before the first wave of the COVID Pandemic. 

In January we held it inside, taking for granted that this was normal and okay.

Then, in March of that year, everything changed. Inside living became verboten and, if we gathered at all, we scrambled to find ways to socialize outside in the fresh air where the germs would not spread as easily.

We are now chugging up the long mountain of COVID’s Delta Variant in a shaky little gondola, puttering up the top with no idea when we will get there. We have the return of the mask mandate and an alarming number of COVID cases among the unvaccinated and vaccinated. School is in person and we’re going ahead with much of normal life as if we’re going to be okay, even though we have no idea what the height of this wave will look like.

At the same time that all of this is going on, Hurricane Ida is raging on the gulf coast. My partner Nancy is from New Orleans and most of her family and many of her friends live there. She is in constant communication with them about the impending storm and their evacuation status.

Nancy said that growing up her family evacuated many times for different hurricanes. Often the efforts of shuttering up the house, packing the car, and driving several hours north or east were for naught. The storm passed over and their evacuation had been unnecessary. 

Yesterday Nancy’s brother sent his two teenage kids and their grandparents (his parents) to Dallas to escape the storm. They will play it safe and hunker down in this place away from the storm where they can wait out the danger of it. 

Nancy’s brother would stay put with the two older kids and hope for the best. He, like many of Nancy’s friends, will shutter up his home, make sure he has enough food and water, fuel up the generators, and have faith.

The clothing swap yesterday felt like the last hurrah before people start evacuating away from COVID. I was aware that this might be the last gathering for a long time. The feeling I had yesterday as fifteen mothers and daughters gathered in my yard, stepping into the basement room with all the doors and windows open to try on clothes, was a sense of elation that bordered on mania. 

I actually felt like I was under some kind of influence; like I was drunk or stoned. The happiness and excitement to be gathering like this were profound because I knew this might be the last time for a while. Every sensation in my body was amplified. I was jumpy and giggly; I felt an explosion of energy, a rush of blood to my chest and head. I felt like I was on the upside-down loop of a roller coaster with both arms flying high above my head. 

In March of 2020, when COVID first hit, I was petrified. I feared COVID. It became enormous, a killer, a death wish. Following this fear, I evacuated with my family into the safety of our home, away from the virus. I didn’t trust that we’d be okay if we lived our normal life, even masking and social distancing —  I would never have held that clothing swap last year.

But this time I’m not evacuating. There are some changes in place that make this an easier decision for me. All of my family and friends are vaccinated and in our city vaccination rates are high and COVID rates are comparatively low. That doesn’t mean a storm isn’t coming, it just means that I’m more like Nancy’s brother this time, staying put, trusting that I’ll be safe, having faith in a positive outcome.

I’ve read the headlines and I know the Delta storm is building strength, that the eye has not yet touched ground, and it’s scary. But this time I feel more confident, braver. I’m not going to evacuate. I will metaphorically board up my windows by wearing a mask in public and keeping social distance. I will be prepared with daily vitamin supplements, a healthy diet, and plenty of sleep to keep my body healthy. I will get a vaccination booster when it is offered to me.

But I won’t evacuate my life this COVID go-round. I won’t live in fear. I can’t do it again. The storm might be bad but I can’t hide out like I did last year. I feel different. I feel more resilient, stronger, more capable. I know what I need to do to stay safe. I know that I don’t have to run away from the world to protect myself.

It’s more a state of mind than any kind of action. This time, as I watch the path of the COVID storm, I’m going to stay put, trust what I’ve learned, use what I know, and have an occasional, very safe, outdoor clothing swap.