Hurricane, also his birthday

The most major hurricane to ever hit my little island is making landfall as I type this, on the morning of my husband’s birthday. Our kids, their loves, and our nieces are coming over for cake and pizza this evening. We’ll all no doubt be huddled around the weather channel seeking news of how everyone is faring back home. We are, most of us, immigrants and the children of immigrants. In crises, our first home looms large. I suppose, other than skin, this is the reason many immigrants are seen as “other.” Because we have two homes. We never do relinquish the birth land. It lives on within us. It helped shape who we are. And today, my birth land is besieged. Our loved ones there are hunkered down. The family reunion chat has been taken over with Hurricane Melissa updates from all corners of the island. This hurricane is a slow moving monster. Dangerous storm surges are expected on the heels of 185 mph winds and forty inches or more of rain. Landslides in the mountains. Not all homes in the country areas are sturdy. We’ll have to reclaim and rebuild in the aftermath, helping in whatever small and large ways we can. 

Meanwhile, this loved guy. We’re going to celebrate him on this day, too.