I volunteered to do some overtime last night to call some of the people affected by the bushfires to update them on their interaction with my workplace. In doing so I had to decide not to do a big cook (or "go overboard" as others might say) for the fundraiser today. Not that that means there won't be enough for everyone - so many are pitching in.Anyhow, the calls started off well with the resiliance and sense of humor of the Australia spirit shining through - those affected by the fire admitted they had lost their homes but they were still together and were overwhelmed by all of the support they were receiving.
Then the calls started to get harder - people sharing their stories of loss, trying hard to focus on the future but struggling to cope with the present, people worried about the effect the fires had on their children, people worried about where they will live or what they will wear.
I cried along with them. The pain, the fear was so palpable, so tangible.
I decided to take a break and go home early - I will make more calls today but I wasn't much use to anyone at that point.
The irony of going 'home' for a break didn't escape me so I stopped and had a quick time-out before hitting the road with a precious friend who listened, who loved, who who got me laughing.
And on the way home it started to rain. And by rain I mean I had to slow down from my usual 100 kph to 40 kph with serious thoughts of just pulling over and waiting for it to stop. I thought the clouds were crying with me until, again, the ongoing irony of the situation became obvious. Some 1000 km away people are fighting over 30 bushfires, 15 of which are still out of control and in my neighborhood, the rain was falling so heavily I could barely see the road in front of me.
And after a night of little sleep and many bad dreams, I am up, ready to do it all again. The muffins are in the oven, their smell is wafting around the house. And I am wondering where all of these people, and the thousands of volunteers who are helping out, are getting their reserves. I sit here and still weep.
Art: "Angel Cry" by digitalsoldier
3 comments:
Good for you MG. You're part of a really wonderful thing (the relief effort) happening in this country at the moment!
Have no words Goddess, just that its all f'cked up.
Please make sure you take time for you...your distress does not make things better for them, but what you have been doing professionally is monumental, the rain here at the moment is really depressing as it's needed elsewhere more...i'm trying to remember that it's more important to worry about what is in my control and making things to sell next week to raise money, than the rain here...although i do agree with both diver and ajay xo
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