Early this morning, a massive storm passed through middle Tennessee, including tornadoes that touched down in several places and left a path of destruction behind. The storm has claimed 22 lives at the time of publishing, but rescue workers are still out collecting information as they begin the long process of clean up. Our old neighborhood of East Nashville (pictured above) incurred a lot of damage–to friend’s homes, businesses, and cherished local spots.
The year of the Nashville flood was the hardest year of my adult life. The news reported of the unrelenting brown waters rising higher and higher through the streets of the city that I loved, the city that had been an extended home for most of my 20’s. I was transfixed by the devastation on a small tv screen, watching helpless from two states away, alone in a row house in Treme. All of my friends were there and some of my family. I was not there. My heart was there, but it was also here, slowly shattering into tiny fragments as a marriage I once belonged to and believed in fell apart.
[Read more over at The Mudroom Blog]
After years of living in almost every corner of Nashville, separately and then together after we married, Michael and I finally moved out to the country.
We have coyotes in our back field and limited internet service and beauty as far as the eye can see. We only have two neighbors and one of them actually goes to our church. I love the drive down our country road, dotted with wildflowers on both sides, and the little country farm stand selling watermelons and tomatoes on the honor system.