In August 2005, Hurricane Katrina changed my life forever. I was only 19, fresh out of high school, well into my fresh year of college after taking a much-needed academic break and filled with dreams and hopes, much like the dress I wore to my graduation—a soft, laced black dress that made me feel like the world was at my feet. That dress was the only piece of my past that survived the storm, a tangible memory of a life before everything was washed away.
As the hurricane roared and the levees broke, my family and I found ourselves clinging to each other, desperate and terrified. We lost our home, our possessions, and a sense of security that many take for granted. The days that followed were filled with chaos and uncertainty, but even then, I couldn't help but think of others. I saw so much suffering around me—neighbors, friends, even strangers—each with their own harrowing stories. I want to say there was a glimmer of hope after the storm, but weeks later we'd learned that my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her diagnosis was a devastating reminder of life's fragility. The woman who had always been my pillar of strength was now facing a battle that none of us could fight for her. Despite her illness, my mother's spirit remained unbroken. She continued to put everyone before herself, offering comfort and encouragement even as she underwent grueling treatments. Her courage and resilience became my guiding light during those dark days. Years passed, and life slowly began to rebuild itself, though never quite the same. My family and I relocated; I took on the responsibility of helping my mom with my sister while also fighting to continue my education. The process continued to be a lengthy one while balancing studies, jobs, and family turmoil, heartbreaks, etc. My college journey has been one of perseverance and resilience, much like the recovery from the storm. I'm on my third major and this is the ONE. The story of how I got here is a blog for another day. Now, as I stand on the cusp of my college graduation in 2024, I can't help but reflect on the journey that brought me here. I found a dress for this occasion that mirrors the one I wore 20 years ago—soft black, simple, yet elegant. When I put it on, I'm transported back to that young girl full of dreams, and I realize that despite everything, those dreams have not been washed away. This dress is more than just a piece of clothing. It symbolizes growth, resilience, and the unwavering spirit of moving forward. It holds the memory of my high school graduation, the love and sacrifices of my family, and the countless people who supported and uplifted me throughout these years. Each thread is woven with gratitude for the life I've rebuilt, and the lessons learned along the way. Graduating is not just a personal achievement; it's a testament to the power of community and the human spirit. It's a reminder that even when life strips us of everything, we can find strength in each other. The journey from the wreckage of Katrina to the triumph of this moment has been long and arduous, but it has also been filled with immeasurable growth and gratitude. Even though I've decided to wait until my doctorate to walk across the stage in my black dress, I carry with me the stories of those who couldn't be here, the memories of a past that shaped me, and the hope for a future filled with endless possibilities. In moments like these, I am reminded that we are more resilient than we know, stronger together than apart, and always capable of turning the tides of our fate. Katrina may have taken much from me, but it also revealed the boundless capacity for love, empathy, and the indomitable will to rise again. P.S. Pause to celebrate every milestone along the way!
0 Comments
|