It’s kind of like my head is floating. Maybe it’s from exhaustion. Maybe it’s from staring at the TV all day, trying to finish what I thought was a final season only to find out there’s another next year. A happy ending today was too much to ask for.
The creek has decreased by half an inch, and the Brazos by two inches. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I’m pretty sure that’s right, though.
Maybe we can stop worrying so much. Maybe we can stop asking if the rivers have crested or if there are any road closures or which gas stations are actually offering fuel. I can’t wait until I can go to a grocery store without asking the cashier if they’re safe, if they’re dry and then, the follow up if they say no, ‘how bad is the damage?’
But our Marshall told everyone it was safe to come home. Mom is coming back today. I’m bringing my journals and embroidery things back in from the car. There are books on the bottom shelves of my bookcases again.
All that’s really left to do is wait for the water to go down so we can get into houses and start tearing things out.