How Can We Live Without Our Lives? How Will We Know It's Us Without Our Past?

The women sat among the doomed things, turning them over and looking past them and back.  This book.  My father had it.  He liked a book.  Pilgrim's Progress.  Used to read it.  Got his name in it.  And his pipe - still smells rank.  And this picture- an angel.  I looked at that before the fust three come - didn't seem to do much good.  Think we could get this china dog in?  Aunt Sadie brought it from the St. Louis Fair.  See?  Wrote right on it.  No, I guess not.  Here's a letter my brother wrote the day before he died.  Here's an old-time hat.  These feathers - never got to use them.  No there isn't room.
     
How can we live without our lives?  How will we know it's us without our past?  
No.  Leave it.  Burn it. 


They sat and looked at it and burned it into their memories.  How'll it be not to know what land's outside the door?  How if you wake up in the night and know - and know the willow tree's not there?  Can you live without the willow tree?  Well, no, you can't.  The willow tree is you.  The pain on that mattress there - that dreadful pain - that's you.

John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath 


I think I can understand better now how the Joad family must have felt, knowing they were leaving everything behind for a new life.

Several days after the May 22, 2011 tornado, Mike and I found ourselves at Karen's home.  She is an inactive member of our ward.  She and her roommate and their two dogs took shelter in their little hallway.  As the tornado blew through their neighborhood a bedroom door ripped off its hinges and hovered over the four of them protecting them from all of the debris flying around.  When they were able to get up, they discovered that the back side of their house was completely gone.  The roof had collapsed in their living room area.  The front office room and hallway were the only two areas still somewhat in tact.  Besides a few bumps and bruises, they were uninjured.

Mike and I joined several others at their home to help them salvage and transport what they could.  I was overwhelmed - where do you even start?  I think Karen felt the same way.  Luckily, Melanie was there and took charge.  She put on her gloves and started hauling stuff out.  Karen had to decide what was worth saving.  She had several sentimental quilts that I brought home to wash.  They were sopping wet and covered in debris.  They took several washings to remove the insulation, etc.  Most stuff wasn't that simple to fix.  Most stuff was put in a trash mound.

Another day our family went to Cindy's house.  She is a young mother in our ward - expecting baby #2 at the time of the tornado.  Her husband isn't a member.  They bought this house about a year ago and have been fixing it up ever since.  Recently they added beautiful wood floors and new furniture.  Cindy was home alone with her daughter when the tornado hit.  They took shelter in the guest bathroom.  Across the hall was her daughter's room.  And a few steps down the hall was the master bedroom.  Both rooms were open to the elements - roof gone.  Cindy only wanted to salvage the bare necessities and start over.  Her husband wanted to take more.  They ended up loading up a small trailer and a truck bed and calling it good.

At another house the owner wanted to save EVERYTHING - She was in her 80's and had accumulated quite a bit in her life time.  Taysom and Mike's job was to place things into the moving truck.  Taysom couldn't understand why many items were to be saved.  She secretly dumped some things into the trash heap.  Thank goodness she did because when we went to unload everything into horse stalls (storage was hard to come by) we barely fit everything.  At one point the woman's daughter saw that a certain set of dishes had made it through the tornado unharmed.  She sat down and cried.

How can we live without our lives?  How will we know it's us without our past?



A couple of weeks ago the Clarks spoke in our ward.  They just recently moved into our ward.  (They used to be in Joplin 2nd ward, but their home was demolished.)  Brother Clark told of staying at his house that first night after the tornado.  He sent his wife and son across the street to stay with the the elderly widow.  They were without power, and it was raining.  They didn't have any way to contact help.  Cell service was spotty and many towers were down.  Streets were full of downed power lines and all kinds of debris.  Even if they could drive on the roads, their cars were inoperable.  I can't imagine it.  The next day they walked to a bus and were taken to MSSU where they stayed until a man from their ward came and took them to his home.  They stayed there for 3 months until they could find a new home.  The man loaned them a car until they could buy a new one.

It has been amazing to see and hear about people's kindness and generosity.  It does my heart good.  And although there were 159 deaths due to the tornado, there were countless miracles.

Our lives continue on... the past isn't left behind... it's just part of what makes us who we are.