At Least She’s Safe

Grappling with nuanced emotions and the gritty reality that persists amidst positive assurances in difficult times

My sister going out on her dingy to help others in Fort Myers Beach after Hurricane Ian struck.

How’s your sister doing?

They ask.

I give the blunt synopsis.

She lost her sail boat, her home, and most of her belongings.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

She watched ships sink, water rise and a city crumble around her.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

I heard her shaky voice mirror the trembling building she sheltered in for over ten hours amidst gusting winds and torrential rain.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

My sister driving a work vehicle to help with hurricane relief efforts.

She’s suppressed tears to mitigate emotions no one’s ready to embrace.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

She’s amongst thousands of neighbors struggling though a sudden life crisis without power, running water or hot food.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

A food and supplies station my sister and her partner set up shortly after the hurricane.

The sea she swam in is now covered with oil and filled with feces.

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

She’s one of the 21 million climate-displaced individuals uprooted by a weather-related event this year.*

But at least she’s safe.

They reassure.

A photo of wrecked boats at Fort Myers beach my sister shared the family.

Yes. She’s safe.