Like many of our neighbors, my house got flooded this week in Houston. It was devastating. Especially since years ago, we had our house lifted five feet in the air. That’s one foot higher than the one-hundred year flood record. Sometimes setting new records – not such a good thing. Enough water entered the house to do some really outstanding damage. We lost all our family photos. We lost books and clothes. I lost my car, ‘Ole Blue, that hasn’t been made since 2011. I found a refrigerator on top of him in the garage (yes, refrigerators float and IT DID get that high). I even lost my huge crop of organic vegetables I have grown mostly from seed. I cared for them, sang to them (Trust me they liked it. You? Probably not so much.), gave them free therapy, and watered them. They are all contaminated now. Bummer!
Having your house flood can really be life altering, and not in a good way. I know, I’ve been through four floods. The aftermath seems insurmountable. The devastation is so great, it’s hard to pick a place to start the clean-up. The damage is complete. I always tell people to just start. Just start somewhere. Make a dent. Then make another dent. It’s a process. One that’s hard to wrap your mind around (at the time).
I started right away. Large items first. I threw them right out of the door and into the front yard. Then, I loaded up my Ford F250 Pickup and hauled it off to the dump. One of my neighbors saw me doing this and asked, “Don’t you have someone to do that for you?” Of course I did. I answered, “Do I not have two arms? Do I not have a pickup truck? Is there a sound if a tree falls in the forest, yet no one is there to hear it? (I threw that last one in there because the idea intrigues me, I didn’t really ask that one).
It seems like a lot of people don’t rely upon themselves anymore to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Sadly, this is pretty common, but something we should not lose sight of. Be ready and be able to care for yourself – then others. Trust me, doing this out of order doesn’t work.
I learned a long time ago that the trash I pulled out of my house and hauled to the dumpster are just things. Things can be replaced. ‘Ole Blue? Sure I loved him, but he’s just a car. I’ll just drive my work truck for a while. Just call me Jed Clampett. “Oooh Doggie!” Over the years, I have watched when loved ones get called home and the remaining family members forget about the really important things. They bicker over belongings. They are just THINGS! My word, sometimes people forget who they are and don’t realize the most important things – staring them right in the face. FAMILY! MEMORIES! Anything else are just things! Things can be replaced. People cannot.
While I loaded my garbage, a young woman drove up and asked me, “Please sir, may I have this?” She pointed to an inexpensive bath mat that was laden with sewer water. At first I thought she was joking. But then I saw her little baby in the car. Of course I gave it to her. And right then, despite all the craptastic luck I was having, I realized something. Actually two things. One, I don’t have ANY problems. And two, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. That’s right, I don’t have any problems and you probably don’t either.
And before you think I may be having a stroke of bad luck, let me just tell you two things. One, my cigars are as high as my outlook on life is. And two, this morning when I got my Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee (decaf and black, of course), and donuts for my employees, the owner gave me a Dunkin’ Donuts hat. That’s a little thing I like to call Lagniappe (look it up – it’s a Frenchy French word).
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. And I don’t have any problems. Do you?
