8 • Continued from previous page purse with her travel documents. Having survived the first round without a hard punch and out looking for those who might have suffered a knockout like we did, our neighbour, Earl, found us before we could even start the journey down. He cleared the way as we lifted my mother over poles, galvanize and transformers down the hill to his fortress. Looking around and seeing the other houses at least standing I remember thinking, “Is it just me?” Unfortunately, I know now that it certainly wasn’t. voice travelling from the tub in the back of the house where they were hunkered down. Credit: Kamaal Lettsome, November 2017 (taken months after Hurricane Irma and clean-up. We took them back with us. Earl’s home became our refuge. From the time of the eye until now we’ve lived there in that spare room on open welcome. If I find any humour in the events of 6th and 7th September it would be the sight of all seven of us women smartly dressed up in Earl’s very manly shorts, shirts and shoes, which were the only option for dry clothing. We made it inside in the nick of time. Earl had a spare room on the bottom floor of his two-storey building where he made us comfortable. The second round was mild in comparison. Completely exhausted from the ordeal and still in a state of shock, we quietly sat through the second half of the storm. At the same time, I was conscious of and worried about the condition of my elderly aunt who lived close by. I monitored the winds carefully waiting for the earliest opportunity to steal out and check on her. We set out as night was starting to shut in. Those were tense, long minutes. We could see that the roof was gone and all the windows blown out. We circled the house several times calling out for minutes. No answer came back. As fear was on the verge of panic a faint voice finally echoed back. “We are here.” It was her traumatised granddaughter’s My expression for Irma is “life-altering.” From now on the reference for time will be pre-Irma and postIrma. It will take a long time to really process what has happened to us. For the first time in my life, I felt like I didn’t know what to do next. The forced decisions post-Irma have been agonising. Homeless and not even able to find a habitable apartment to rent on island our entire family has no option but to migrate. Our cats, true members of the family, have been given up for adoption overseas. Valuable lessons, however, were learnt in this experience, two of which I can recount right now. Firstly, your shelter, your home, your refuge, should never be taken for granted. Secondly, you shouldn’t fill it with clutter. I now live as lightly as I can. We definitely had too much stuff. We all do. Irma came to say, “Live a little lighter on the planet.” As I rebuild my life, I will be very wary of the stuff I acquire along the way. More about The Irma Diaries and the author Angela Burnett can be found at www.irmadiaries.com
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