Starting Again

Class started again today.  And it's okay.  I don't feel like there is a cloud over the campus or some huge weight on all of our shoulders.  Maybe it's just me, but I am glad to be back.  It is going to take a little getting used to.  Looking from the Walker Rd. entrance, you can see straight through to the SUB building.  That is weird.  The campus looks tiny now.  

I wish Jen and I could move into our apartment, but unfortunately we have to wait until next Wednesday.  I'm staying with two of my old roommates and another friend in their new apartment until then.  I was going to stay at my aunt's, but I kind of prefer walking ten minutes or driving three minutes to driving 15 to 20 minutes from Medina.  And it's fun to stay with them.  

It's interesting how each person has handled the whole situation.  Some who didn't lose a whole lot are traumatized just by the experience.  Some of us who lost a lot of our possessions are taking it pretty well, as far as I can tell.  Every person is different.  I do think that we all feel as though we have more of a camaraderie with the entire student body.  Disasters like this really do bring people together.  My main prayer will be that we will be on the lookout for those students that aren't taking it well, who might try to isolate themselves and fall into depression because they feel separated.  We are in no way alone in all of this, primarily because God has been with each of us the whole time.  Nor are we lacking for people who truly care about us, whether it be at school, at work, or at home.  

I saw Suzanne, the RA who basically saved my life, last night at the worship service.  We just hugged each other for a good while (I cried, obviously), then I thanked her for saving my life.  I know it sounds melodramatic, but it was the truth.  She said, "Oh, God saved us all."  To me she was just an instrument of God that night; I'm sure I'm not the only one she told to get to safety.  

I've decided this starting over again thing isn't half bad.  I get a ton of new stuff!  Haha.  Really, though, I think about the keepsakes that I had in my room, the things that meant something to me, and wonder what I really would have done with them.  I know I would have kept them, for sure, but how long would it be before they were up in an attic in my (future) house to be forgotten for years and years?  I am aware that those things are often found during cleaning excursions and brought out for reminiscent purposes; it's just that...  now I have a bigger story to tell.  

Stuff

That's all it is. And I know that. But when you see what ten seconds before was your room - what ten minutes before you were watching a movie in - you don't view it that way. I keep seeing images of what I saw Tuesday night and think about what I could have saved. I do, however, know that after it was over, we needed to get out.

For insurance purposes, I have begun writing a list of my possessions that were in my room. I started out with the obvious: laptop, video camera, digital camera, iPod, iPod speakers, and so on. After about thirty minutes I had at least five pages of things, and I hadn't even gotten to my clothes. The hardest question I kept asking myself while writing these things down was this: How do you put a price to everything you own? There were innumerable things that could be bought straight from the Columns in Jackson; then there are the things that people made with their own hands, things that had very sentimental value. What are they worth to someone who is writing you a check to try and make up for it all being gone?

I know that I am being quite materialistic. Tuesday night I continuously went between two extremes: "My stuff is gone, but thank God I'm still alive," and "My life is GONE." I felt as though I'd lost part of myself. I know that I will get past this just fine, but it's hard to deal with. It keeps hitting me, like I still don't entirely get it. I do believe, though, that seeing my room blown to pieces of concrete and plaster is what keeps coming back. I wonder how I would feel about it if I hadn't been there. If I'd been working at Dick's, like I would have been had I not left early because I felt sick. I think I would feel much differently had I not seen what was left, had not walked over my old roof, seen what might have been my dresser on another part of the roof, and looked at my floor in the bedroom below.

My roommate did find my Lady Bulldogs soccer sweatshirt, though. Haha. In the parking lot. And I did want a new laptop. Those new iPods look awesome, and I got rid of those ridiculously huge inserts that didn't fit into any shoes I owned. All of my soccer balls were half-deflated and beat up. My bike was at least six years old, and the TV was an old one I got for free from my aunt.

I needed new underwear, too. ;)

Praise God for His Mercy

Yes, I am fine. I am physically unhurt; however, my room is completely gone. We weren't able to get in and see what could be salvaged, and as far as we could tell, there may not be much. My car is in great condition, considering. The sideview mirrors are both broken and there's a dent in the hood plus a few scratches. Practically nothing. Some time I can post the experience on here, but I'm just posting to let you know I'm okay. Thank you for all the text messages and calls, and even thank you for those who didn't call but were worried about me. The only thing I ask of you is to pray. Pray for the students that had more serious injuries, pray for those who are very far away from home, and pray for those who went through it.