Kim Wilbanks

I sat up in bed with a start. Oh, no! All of my shells are gone!

That was the first thought that popped into my head at 4:00 in the morning one day a couple of weeks ago. It had been two weeks since hurricane Helene and I was just realizing one more loss. Thirteen years’ worth of beautiful seashells collected from the beach were gone in an instant. It was such an insignificant loss in relation to everything else, but it still made me so sad. 

A Sunny September At The Beach

My husband and I were blessed to have back to back visits from our two adult children in September. Our daughter and son-in-law were here on Labor Day weekend and the week following. Our son, daughter-in-law, and grandsons arrived in mid-September for a month-long stay. In preparing for their visits, we did a little extra cleanup around the pool and garage.

There were two jars of seashells, but the lids were rusted. They contained my favorite shells I had collected over the years. I got an unbreakable decorative bowl to put the shells in and use as a centerpiece on our patio table. Oh, how I wish I had taken a picture of it. Some shells were tiny, so I found a smaller bowl to put them in. Just the perfect size for my little grandson to enjoy, and he did.

My daughter and son-in-law’s visit was so much fun. We went to dinner with them and their friends. We explored the cute shops on the island and read books as we lounged by the beach or pool. It was sad to see them go, but we looked forward to spending time with our son and his little family within a few days.

When A Dream Becomes Reality

My husband and I have visited Anna Maria Island since before we were married. (I grew up visiting the island as a child). Walking the beach, we would dream about how fun it would be to bring our children. As they grew older and moved away from home, we dreamed about how fun it would be to enjoy the beach through the eyes of our grandchildren.

Our dream came true. We finally got to enjoy the beach with a grandchild.

We had twelve glorious days with our son and his family at the beach; playing in the sand, swimming in the pool, exploring sea life at the aquarium lab, and eating lots of delicious food. Our two-year-old grandson even took his first swimming lessons. We were getting comfortable with the rhythm of beach life with a newborn and toddler and looking forward to another week.

Then everything changed.

Hurricane Warning

We had cautiously watched the weather reports and the forecast saddened us. A storm named Helene was heading our way. It probably would not be a direct hit, but it would be too close for comfort. We had to evacuate. I felt bad for my son and daughter-in-law. Anyone who has ever traveled with infants and toddlers knows that picking up and moving is no simple thing.

We went home, about an hour and a half away, to wait out the storm, but felt positive we would return to the beach in a couple of days. My husband and I would have another week with them and they would have another week after that, along with my daughter-in-law’s parents.

The storm wasn’t bad in our hometown, but we began hearing very different reports from the island. It was much worse than we had expected. Plans changed and my son and daughter-in-law decided they should shorten their stay and drive home.

The Best Intentions

I started a blog post that weekend. I was going to write about how sad I was that our plans were ruined by the hurricane, but how blessed we were to experience a dream come true—hanging out at the beach with our grandchildren. I also wanted to mention the unexpected joy of meeting up with a friend and her granddaughter at our hometown’s brand-new children’s museum. My grandson loved it, both his morning and afternoon visits.

That’s what I was going to write about that weekend, but when we drove down to the beach to check on our house, we found destruction. Then, we heard unimaginable stories of the devastation in our beloved mountains of North Carolina. And Israel at war in the Middle East. I was overwhelmed. What could I possibly say that would have any meaning at all?

Because our home suffered significant damage and the mountains of North Carolina were devastated, we had to cancel a trip we had planned with friends. We used to take a football trip with this couple every year. Our last one was in 2019, before COVID.

The following week, I was going to write about how special western North Carolina is to me and how I’ve visited that part of the world regularly for nearly sixty years. But the stories coming out of the mountains were too much. It hurt my heart and brain to imagine what the people in the area experienced.

Then we had another hurricane. Milton was worse for our hometown than Helene. It was a loud, frightening storm. Our neighborhood and golf course flooded. We lost power for a few hours and water came down our chimney, but thankfully, we did not flood. Unfortunately, several homes around us did. There is a neighborhood in our town that has been flooded for two weeks.

Disappointment Vs Devastation

It has been six weeks since I’ve written, six weeks since I could think of anything to say. I’ve read a lot and I notice a common thread. Emotions are raw and all over the place. People are sad for what they have lost but feel guilty for feeling sad when others have lost so much more. Then some have lost so much they can barely breathe. The most beautiful thing I’ve read is how people are coming together to help each other in some amazing ways.

I am disappointed but not devastated. Our damage at the beach was significant and will take time and money to repair, but it will eventually be made right. For me, it isn’t so much the loss of the tangible that stings.

• I lost a week with my two precious grandsons (and their parents). When you live hundreds of miles away, every moment you spend together is a treasure.
• I lost a trip we had planned and anticipated for months with close friends.
• I lost time in the beautiful mountains of North Carolina. I’m in the autumn of life and it was disappointing to miss this autumn in the mountains.
• I lost the use of a place of solace at the beach.
• I lost the feeling of familiarity and sameness of beloved places.

But I am here and safe and okay. And I feel guilty for feeling sad and disappointed.

Dealing With Feelings

I’ve been thinking a lot these past six weeks. I think it’s okay to have these feelings and other feelings that would be considered negative. There are clues to that in the Bible.

Why would God tell us to “fear not” unless he knew we had the propensity to be afraid? Why would he tell us “not to be anxious” unless he knew the circumstances of our world would tempt us to be anxious? Why would he tell us to “choose joy” unless he knew that sometimes sadness would overtake us? Finally, why would he give us a cure for disappointment unless he knew we would experience it? He is the answer.

My husband and I have made several day trips to the beach to assess the damage and begin the restoration process. On our last visit, I walked down to the shore, which interestingly had been taken over by the flock of seabirds who used to hang out a little further north. I was curious to see what seashells washed up on the beach. (In a previous storm, we found hundreds of live conchs and welks). The once crowded beach was practically empty; only three or four beachcombers like me. Something in the sand caught my eye, and I picked it up—a perfect little conch shell without an inhabitant. I guess it’s time to start a new collection.