I’m struck by the number of people I know in public and private struggles. The spring storms of 2011 have upended records kept in our country for generations that chronicle the number of lives lost, people injured and the value of property damage done to homes, farms and businesses as they—tornados, water spouts, hailstorms and thunderstorms—have left devastation in their wake. The storm damage from Alabama and Mississippi to Missouri and Massachusetts will require years of physical and financial sacrifice from residents who want to build back.
The psychological trauma experienced by storm survivors may at first seem endless, but we are resilient. The aftermath of these storms has put countless people in various states of physical and emotional healing, and my heart goes out particularly to people who’ve already weathered a lot of loss in their lives—people approaching and over 50 affected by the terrible loss.
Ironically, this group of storm victims—the 50-somethings and older—are uniquely qualified to cope well and serve as “role models of resilience” for others. Maturity and a deep sense of well-being come from facing both wonderful and difficult life experiences and cultivating a spirit that focuses on the radiant, a heart that’s strong but not hardened, and a mind determined to grasp meaning and a greater sense of accomplishment by soldiering on with hope and courage.
Two of my friends facing difficult choices are Margaret and Charlie. Their son, Chip, and I were childhood friends, so you know they’ve landed squarely in their 70s now. The home that Charlie’s father built for them decades ago—their beautiful homeplace where Margaret made her lush flowerbeds the envy of their neighborhood—was destroyed in the late April tornados in Alabama. Margaret and Charlie barely survived serious injury or worse as the timbers, flagstones, roof and walls that sheltered them for so long exploded around them in the fury from those deadly winds. Charlie chokes up when he speaks about his late father’s generosity, but his loving eyes well with tears as he recounts the anguish he felt when he clawed through the rubble for their home to get to Margaret and pull her to safety.
They’ve parented a child together, known the ups and downs of enterprise as small business owners and served as community leaders in their church and small town. They’ve lived an abundant and happy life through good times and bad, and now, they find themselves in their golden years with what anyone would say are difficult choices and heavy hearts.
Rest assured, however, that Margaret and Charlie are still hopeful and full of courage and have the most genuine comfort of their family, friends and neighbors. They are resilient, and whatever their decision—to build back where they’ve been or re-settle where the soil isn’t nearly as familiar—they’re soldiering on with the quiet confidence borne of good character and the perspective from a longer view. Charlie says, “Naturally, we’re feeling a little lost, but we have the support of so many good friends, and we’ll be fine. We’ll build back where and when we’re ready, and we’ll know when everything feels right. Thank you for your kindness.”
With our most heartfelt sympathy and respect,
Dear Margaret and Charlie,
Please know without question that we stand with you. We are deeply moved by your loss, Dear Friends, and honored to know you and are thinking of you during this tender time. Thank you for serving as a beacon of strength and well-being that lights our way. All the best to you always,
Yours truly,
Doctor Mell
