Earthquake Damage
It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything about the earthquake, and in a way I hate to start again now, but the truth is January 12th, 2010 is a day that forever changed me.
The Earthquake itself was scary of course, how could it not be when you your cement house is wiggling like jello and things are smashing all around you? Yes, it was scary, but the earthquake isn’t what changed me. It was the aftershocks, the things I saw, the screaming, the wailing, the smells, the blank stares, the cracks everywhere, so many cracks.
A few days ago I was described as “fragile”. Not as a put down, but as a matter of fact statement. “I know you are fragile Rachel, but you don’t need to worry.”
I wasn’t really sure how to respond to this, but after spending some time reflecting I realized that it is true. I am fragile. I also realized that it’s ok.
My house has visible cracks, the walls, the ceiling, the stairs, the patio, the railing…you can see them all. You know the house was shaken, you can’t hide it, believe me we tried. My Dad came to Haiti a few months after the earthquake and filled every crack in my house. Not being able to see the cracks made a huge difference, but as time has gone on, and the earth continues to shake from time to time those cracks have started to show through. You can cover them up, but they won’t go away.
The same goes for me, although my cracks are much less visible, at least to those who don’t know me well. People don’t notice how jumpy I still am, or see my continued anxiety. Most people don’t know my heart pounds when not all the doors to the church are open, if an exit is blocked, or if I am not sitting on the end seat of the pew. They don’t see me wake up in a panic in the middle of the night desperately trying to convince myself the earth is not really shaking. Yes, it is easy to cover the cracks, but they are still there.
On one of my first visits to Canada after the earthquake my Aunt Helen shared a quote with me, “There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. “ I think about this often. Two years ago I would have been offended to be called fragile, but my fragility is a part of who I am now. My story includes January 12th. There are many cracks in this girl’s life, but those cracks let the light in, and I keep on pressing on, one step at a time.
Peace, love and light shining through,
Rachel
The Earthquake itself was scary of course, how could it not be when you your cement house is wiggling like jello and things are smashing all around you? Yes, it was scary, but the earthquake isn’t what changed me. It was the aftershocks, the things I saw, the screaming, the wailing, the smells, the blank stares, the cracks everywhere, so many cracks.
A few days ago I was described as “fragile”. Not as a put down, but as a matter of fact statement. “I know you are fragile Rachel, but you don’t need to worry.”
I wasn’t really sure how to respond to this, but after spending some time reflecting I realized that it is true. I am fragile. I also realized that it’s ok.
My house has visible cracks, the walls, the ceiling, the stairs, the patio, the railing…you can see them all. You know the house was shaken, you can’t hide it, believe me we tried. My Dad came to Haiti a few months after the earthquake and filled every crack in my house. Not being able to see the cracks made a huge difference, but as time has gone on, and the earth continues to shake from time to time those cracks have started to show through. You can cover them up, but they won’t go away.
The same goes for me, although my cracks are much less visible, at least to those who don’t know me well. People don’t notice how jumpy I still am, or see my continued anxiety. Most people don’t know my heart pounds when not all the doors to the church are open, if an exit is blocked, or if I am not sitting on the end seat of the pew. They don’t see me wake up in a panic in the middle of the night desperately trying to convince myself the earth is not really shaking. Yes, it is easy to cover the cracks, but they are still there.
On one of my first visits to Canada after the earthquake my Aunt Helen shared a quote with me, “There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. “ I think about this often. Two years ago I would have been offended to be called fragile, but my fragility is a part of who I am now. My story includes January 12th. There are many cracks in this girl’s life, but those cracks let the light in, and I keep on pressing on, one step at a time.
Peace, love and light shining through,
Rachel
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