As Hurricane Dennis begins to make landfall, I am heartsick for the people in its path. Though forecasters repeatedly said the storm would truck right past the Tampa area, I was terrified it would dogleg and veer right into us. Instead, we had tropical storm-type weather all day yesterday and into last night. Yes, we dodged a bullet, but I feel terrible that someone else will take it for us right in the gut.
I’ve never been attached to a home that I’ve lived in. I’ve never felt the connectedness to a house that others seem to have, not even the house I lived in prior to moving to Florida, even though all my children were born in its master bedroom. Since moving into this house, however, all that has changed. I have become very emotionally attached to it and I would be devastated if anything happened to it. It’s the first home I’ve ever genuinely loved, the first house I would be hard-pressed to ever leave. I realize that we are only in the beginning of hurricane season and that anything could happen between now and season’s end. For the first time, I can honestly say that if I lost my home, I would be crushed. And I feel awful knowing that, when Dennis finally disintegrates, I’ll still have my place…but only at the expense of hundreds (thousands?) who won’t.