When the levee breaks…
Where do I start?
The last 6 weeks have been a whirlwind of trauma, tragedy, triumph and emotions.
I originally wanted to write about all the things in one go, but it’s too much for just one blog entry. So, I’ll just write… and see what comes out… this might be part one of a few parts…
First, let's go back to the beginning of this term, when going to class was tough. I really didn’t feel up to returning to study. I don’t really know why, maybe because of the long 2 month break over the Christmas holidays, which was mostly spent in isolation, but I just didn’t feel motivated. It took quite a bit of energy to push myself to turn up to class.
The teacher asked the class 2 questions at the beginning of that Tuesday: What do you want to focus on during this last term? What is your strategy to keep focused?
My response came to me surprisingly quickly. I was reminded of my first day of class in April 2021. I had not stepped inside a classroom for over 20 years, I had no idea what I was doing and what lay ahead. However, on that day I made a commitment to myself that I would do whatever it takes to finish this course.
I responded to the teacher’s question and announced to the whole class: I would focus on finishing the course, and to do that, I would take it one day at a time.
I’ve spent a lot of my life dreaming of the future or reliving the past. I was rarely in the moment. My calendar is full of a “to do list”, that never fails to grow bigger. It’s also full of special dates from the past that I often relive, often without a positive feeling. I kept experiencing anxiety on a regular basis, because I wasn’t mindful of the present. I wasn’t being grateful for what I have got or experienced, just disappointed about what I haven’t got or what I missed out on.
I didn’t stop to smell the roses.
That first day back to class this year, was a real turning point for me, I decided I was going to work on learning to live in the moment as best I could. I felt this was currently where my mental health and personal growth would most benefit, by taking things one day at a time.
I had turned up to class, and that was an achievement I needed to acknowledge to myself. That was the most important thing I could do that day and, if it was the only thing I did, then pat myself on the back, a job well done.
Turn up, be present and do the best I can.
From then on, I removed as many distractions as I could from my daily routine, there was less guitar playing, or gig finding or even socializing. I slowed right down. The main focus was that I turned up to class, even if I didn’t think I was in the right mindset to learn, just being there was a sign I was still heading towards my goal.
Slowly but surely my motivation came back, and on those days when I felt down, my class mates and teachers wouldn’t let me slack off, they’d remind me “one day at a time”. They were stubbornly supportive, but that’s what you get when you’re in a room full of counsellors.
So, there I was slowly getting my student mojo back… and then the levee broke…
So much can happen in just 24 hours…
On Sunday 27th February the rains got real heavy on saturated ground and didn’t let up. By Monday morning as the tide was at its highest, like many others in the area, we had water inside our house.
Looking back, the whole thing feels like a dream. A really, really, bad dream.
Mum and I didn’t sleep much on Sunday night and by 5am I was driving the car out of the garage to higher ground, scaring myself in the process. The water sure is deep in the dark! I decided not to risk it with our 2nd slightly higher car. I thought the water couldn’t get higher enough to get inside it, boy I was wrong.
We tried to get everything up high in the house, guitars on kitchen benches, boxes of books on tables, tax documents, visa applications and passports out of the bottom filing cabinet. Electrical items, lamps, fans and cables up on couches and shoes and clothes out of the bottom of cupboards.
While Mum and I were running around putting stuff up, we let Alex rest a little longer, she’d need her energy later anyhow. Eventually, Alex woke up to Mum and I trying to prepare for the water entering the house outside our bedroom window.
The key word here was “spider”, which I yelled as I realised a huge huntsman was just an inch away from my hand, he was getting away from the water perched on the wall. Alex and spiders of any size don’t mix, and she shot upright pretty darn quick.
I logged into class at 9am, showing my online class the water rising outside and really, in hindsight of that adrenaline rush, not realizing how much worse things were about to get and how this moment in time would change us forever.
At least I was marked “present” that day.
The water came through the marsh land a few hundred meters behind our house and rose over the neighbouring golf course. At the same time, it was news to me that the water could flow down our street out the front of the house like a river too. I opened the garage door, and it flowed fast and furious through and out the back, connecting the road river to the golf course lake.
As the water entered the house, it didn’t come through the low windows or under the doors first, it crept through in between the cement slab, bricks and timber frame in corners and other spots. To be honest, we didn’t do too bad with our preparations; we just didn’t do them at the right spots. The water has a mind of its own, there’s no stopping it no matter what you do.
As the water rose, we waded through the water and kept putting things higher, or finding things we’d forgotten about in low cupboards, either wet already, or found just in time to save ‘em.
As soon as the water entered the house, I called the SES asking for rescue. We knew we were not the lowest part of the road, and that walking out in either direction was a dangerous option without help. We weren’t sure if the power or phones would work for much longer either.
We “moved out” of the house to wait for rescue, into the “catio” or summer room. Basically, a room with fly screens for walls, usually used to enjoy the cool evenings without the mosquitos and bugs to disturb dinners, today it was our knee-deep flowing water rescue room.
Our belongings were up on the table, as were the 2 cats, in their respective carrier box/bag. Ruby was not impressed at being in her box, but Junior was comfortable in his bag. Both cats spent over 7 hours in their carriers, without a break, until we were safe on dry land.
I had all my electronics, laptop and iPad, ready for rescue, so that once we were safe, I could continue my studies!! It’s funny how the mind works in times of stress, class wasn’t going to happen for a while Josh!! Numpty!
Around mid-morning, Alex had mentioned to her colleagues online that she, sorry, wasn’t able to work, there was water in the house. Her boss quickly rallied her colleagues to head on over with kayaks to rescue us!
So now we had 2 rescue teams on their way, but when would they arrive?
We waited for what felt like hours, checking what we could inside the house, taking photos, checking the front street and just waiting and worrying. At one point I started to think we may not be rescued and would have to consider sleeping in the house somehow. The thought of sleeping on a wet mattress didn’t appeal to any of us.
We chatted to a few folks who kayaked or paddle down the street and stopped out front, there were even a few kids oblivious to the destruction in our homes along the street swimming and laughing as the “river” pushed them down the street.
There were logs, gas bottles, chairs and coke cans floating by in the brown water.
The SES arrived with a rubber ducky mid-afternoon and checked in on us. We were glad they got to us, and they were glad we were relatively safe. They had another family with children to check further down the road, we said that’s OK to go to them first, we just asked them to stop by on their way back to pick us up.
They also mentioned Alex’s colleagues were waiting for us at the end of the road. Apparently, they had their kayaks in the water at the end of the road ready to come to our rescue, when the rescue guys arrived. It was suggested that maybe it was safer for them to rescue us instead.
Eventually the SES, rescue squad and policeman returned with the other family to grab us. After a bit of back and forwards, Mum was going to go first and Alex and I later, we decided we’d walk with them as far as we could, and then between us and the other family use the boat in the deep sections. It was quite overwhelming, to be rescued from our house, a house that had been our safe space for the past 18 months or so, and that had protected Mum for over 10 years.
We were very thankful for the rescue guys coming to our aid. They’d been working since early morning and hadn’t had a break. They waded through the waters more than once, and I’m sure they were really feeling the pain and exhaustion.
I had my electronics and study notes on my back, I had BB Junior on my front in his cat backpack and I had my suitcase in the boat. Alex had her handbag with her laptop and the food bag, she left her clothes bag behind. Mum had Ruby in the carrier, a suitcase and her backpack. We walked slowly through the rain for over a kilometre to safety.
That kilometre involved parts of almost dry road, knee deep water, waist deep water and jumping in the boat at chest deep water, all of it against the “tide”. There were cars submerged, people out staking photos, some houses totally safe from the water, others deeper than ours. It was a real mixed bag.
When we finally got to the end of the road, we met Alex’s colleagues who drove us to our friend’s place, Sophie*, where we could figure out our next step.
The cats were soaking wet, but happy to be out and about in the late afternoon when we got to our respective temporary accommodation.
We had no idea how high the water would get that evening and could just hope our belongings were going to be safe. That evening the power cut out for 18 hours, and by the next evening all communications, phone and internet, would be out for at least 5 days.
We couldn’t even let our loved ones know we were OK.
During flood day, Mum, Alex and I worked together almost seamlessly, as a team, to get the house in the best possible order for when the water rose. We were running on adrenaline and survival. There was little time to be tired or unfocused, it was all action.
Little did we know, we had just been through a traumatic experience, something that changed us and will stay with us for the rest of our lives. The shock of it all still surrounds us 6 weeks on.
Our security blanket, our house, our plans, our routine, our safety was shattered. We are a family that was displaced by the flood. We are one group of many who experienced tragedy during those days, and for many days and weeks to come.
For the next 3 weeks Alex, BB Junior and I would sleep in Sophie’s spare room, while Mum would sleep at my cousins and Ruby was at my other cousins.
Like many many others in the region, we are a displaced family due to the highest flood in living history. It was 1 day in our lives, but the knock-on effect will live with us forever.
Thanks for reading
Josh
*not her real name
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