The Flood

The Flood

*

Everyone always talks about how much damage floods really cause. The water seeps in and damages floors and carpets, walls and woodwork. It soaks everything it touches, most of which must then be thrown away as a result. You never get back the memories those cold waters destroy.

*

In the last few years, the relationship amongst my family has shifted. Despite moving home for the summer, I barely talk to my parents. How was work? Good. When do you work tomorrow? Noon. Will you be home for dinner? Not tonight.

I love my parents, but we don’t have a lot in common. Where once there were card games and lively stories, there are now awkward silences and unspoken apologies.

*

About a month after I moved home from my sophomore year at University, the rain hit hard. Little did we know, our foundation was cracked, and water was seeping through the cracks in the basement floor.

I came home from work around nine-thirty one night and saw the basement door open and the light on. I went down and found my dad working to cover the cracks with towels. I ran upstairs and grabbed more towels and began helping. Soon my sister came down and joined.

We covered the cracks with towels. When they were soaked, replaced them with another towel, and did our best to wring out the wet one. The cycle went on for hours. We took out the Wet-Vac and began vacuuming the water. My sister and I ran to the 24-hour store at midnight to get a second Wet-Vac to try and keep up. My mom woke up when we got home, and came down to help.

We had two Wet-Vacs attacking the worst parts of the crack. My sister and I kept replacing and wringing towels. Around four in the morning, we realized the water was winning. It had spread to cover the entire basement floor, and was getting deeper every minute. We abandoned our efforts to stem the flow, and hauled everything from the basement upstairs.

During the night, I joked that if my parents wanted to hang out with us, they didn’t have to flood the basement—they could just take us out to dinner or something. Everyone laughed. I felt like we were bonding for the first time in years.

We sat in the living room later, surrounded by mountains of our memories. We laughed at our misfortune, as many people, overtired and at a loss for the next step, surely have done. One-by-one we filtered off to bed. Smile. Thank you. You’re welcome. See you in the morning.

The next morning, the awkward silence returned.

As the water went down over the next few days, the damage was assessed. Carpets were ripped out, and walls and woodwork were repaired and replaced.

I think back to that night and remember how happy I had been. Smiling and laughing, because there was no point in being angry. We had been together. We had been normal.

The flood may have destroyed our possessions. It may have damaged our home of seventeen years. Eventually, I will forget those things. I doubt very much, however, I will ever forget those few hours when we remembered that we were family.