Be it a wave, a flood, a tree. We have suffered, you and me. Roofs ripped off. The wiring is bad. The pipes are busted. Nearly losing everything and glad. Been near death. Seen the other side and held my breath. Seen life flash before my eyes and came back. Life is short and sweet. Sweet and sour. Hour by hour.
With everything I once knew, now torn apart. I must learn to turn those broken parts into art. Find out what holds up to this harsh weather. What will our insurance cover? See if wood and nails will replace the fear I held. For years. The fear that this storm would hit and it would be the end. But until it hit I would pretend. That everything was okay.
The storm has come. Flooded homes and entire towns. Wiped away lifetimes of hard work. As many still search for lost lovers. I stand here with you, a survivor. In front of our home. Nothing left but mud and debris. My loving family looking up at me. In this space we once felt secure and free. In this capsule I waited for death to come for me. When it came and left me to be. I can not help but ask why? After so many years living to die. How do I learn to live?
A feeling many have in battle I suspect. Smiling deeply inside that a bullet would hit. Take them out as a perfect young man. Lean and mean. An American fighting machine. Always training for that moment when death would greet them and make them immortal. All the brawls. All the beers. All the years facing fear. All to mark ones territory.
Now the battle is over and the waters have gone. I have to take a deep look around. Take a deep look inside. And prepare for the long life I did not expect. Retirement plans and mortgage payments. College funds and credit scores. The daily grind of surviving. In a world where no one is a hero. In a world where we all go out equals and zeros.