The Dream

After the storm I had a dream. My husband and I were lying in bed one night. But it wasn’t our bedroom. I didn’t recognize it. Then all of a sudden, the ceiling fell and landed on my husband. I will never forget what his dead body looked like in the dream.

I had so much stress after that nightmare. I kept telling myself it was just a dream. But it felt so real.

We celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary at the end of September at our home in Mexico Beach. A few weeks later the mandatory hurricane evacuation notices came out.

We went to Tennessee but made our way back into Mexico Beach six days after Hurricane Michael hit. As we drove back into Mexico Beach I prayed, “Dear lord, if you want us to have that house let there be enough standing to rebuild. If not, then just take all of it.”

We arrived at our house or what was left of it. There was a green sticker on the door which meant the house had been searched and no one was trapped inside.

There was six inches of mud on the ground and piles of debris over top of it.

As we walked through the house we would slip on the mud and grab the walls to catch ourselves. The walls are now streaked with muddy handprints.

My husband looked at me and said “I can fix this.”

He is 73. He has a pacemaker and bad knees. But he is also a frame carpenter with the fierce spirit.

For the next 10 days we shoveled out the house and went to work repairing what we could.

At night we would sleep up right in the front of our truck.

Our ankles swelled. I knew we needed to find a bed to sleep on.

We had set one of the mattresses up on wooden boards to let the water drain out.

It was finally dry enough to sleep on.

I drove to the Wal-Mart in Marianna and picked up some sheets. That night we pulled the bed into a room that had little damage.  

We laid down. It was glorious to have our feet propped up.

Just about the time my husband fell asleep I heard water dripping. I nudged him.

“Honey, do you hear the water dripping.”

“No.”

He is hard of hearing.

“I can. Get up.”

“It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

I nudged him again.

He finally sat up and told me to get a bucket. He went to use the makeshift toilet he had built out of a plastic chair and a bucket that sat in the closet. Just as he did, the ceiling fell. Sheet rock, insulation, everything fell on the bed. On his side of the bed. If he had still been laying on the bed it would have killed him.

My dream. It happened.  

We went back to the truck to sleep.  

In 2008 the property taxes in Mexico Beach went up. Drastically. We had to take a loan to pay them. We eventually ended up paying off the house but we couldn’t afford the homeowners insurance.

We have been doing all the repair work ourselves. It is hard on us at our age. We have been able to manage with the help of our children and grandchildren. We couldn’t do it without them.

Team Rubicon also paid us a visit. They help Veterans rebuild after a disaster. My husband retired from Tyndall Air Force Base in 1991 as a Combat Communications officer. It is great that organizations like that exist. 

For now, we will be here working every day until the house is put back together. My birthday is three days after Christmas and my husband made a birthday sign by stapling paper plates to the wall. We are making the best of everyday the good Lord has given us.

My husband has said a couple of times “I wish I would have let them demolish it.” The good Lord saved this house for us and I know there will be a purpose for it.