New Yorkers are not known for breaking easily. We may bend with with changes that life brings, but we don’t break easily.
Today is the first anniversary of Hurricane Sandy.
Every decade has its moments, a period of time when everyone remembers where they were. I don’t think I will ever forget Hurricane Sandy.
I had bought theater tickets with a friend for that Sunday afternoon. While we were having lunch before the show, the televisions were all turned to the news channels and the potential destruction of the coming hurricane. Looking at the weather reports, we decided to exchange the tickets for another performance.
After picking up the necessary supplies, I was prepared to barricade myself into my apartment. I watch the news as much as the next person, but for the next 48 hours, I watched nothing but news.
When it was over and I walked outside for the first time in two days, I counted my blessings. My home and my neighborhood was left unscathed. The worst thing to happen to my family was lost of electricity for several days.
Some of my fellow New Yorkers were not so lucky. Some lost their homes and everything inside their homes, some lost their lives.
There are moments in life when you are forced to take note of the good things in your life. Sandy reminded me that I was alive, that my home was left in one piece, that I had a hot shower, fresh food and electricity. Sandy reminded me that I and everyone I love survived.
She might be long gone, but the scars have not yet healed. Sandy, you are gone, but not forgotten.