You know when you watch people on the news after a tornado or a hurricane has ripped their lives and homes to shreds,  how they look around with tears in their eyes, in shock at all the damage, but still grateful that they’re alive?  And how they always say that no matter how bad things are, regardless of their terrible loss, that they’re going to rebuild?   Well, I always wonder how they’re doing after the news trucks and reporters have gone on to other stories.  How they are months later when the really hard work of rebuilding is happening and no one is there to notice.

In a smaller, more personal and more human way I’ve witnessed something similar; the destruction of a lifestyle, of a commitment, of certainty.  The confusing disbelief, the crazy anger, the debilitating sadness;  the hopelessness, the exhaustion, the constant and wearing questions and lists.  And as time went on  I’ve also seen the hope shining through the tears, the growth of a human spirit, the strength  growing, and the rebuilding beginning.  Out of disaster, disorder and deconstruction, through heartache and hard work, comes a new life.  Here’s proof that reconstruction is possible; that’s it necessary and difficult, but satisfactory and joyous all at the same time.  Even when no one is watching.

Congratulations little sister on your reconstruction of a deconstructed life.  You’re on your way, no time to look back, the future is yours now.  Go with it.  I’m proud of you.