In a few days it will be the first anniversary of one of the worst days of my life. The day that saw 9 inches of rain fall in a single storm. A day that my husband walked into four feet of water in our basement. Our first flood. Not Vermont’s first by far, but the first one that impacted myself and my family directly, the one that still impacts us almost a year later.

I suspect that people in my life may be wondering how we’re doing. The answer: it’s complicated. We are still navigating FEMA, something which I hope you never have to do. We are now also working with Vermont Legal Assistance because FEMA hasn’t been the help we thought it would be. We have a go fund me which has not made a financial impact like we hoped it would. We have a basement with a heaved floor that we can’t afford to fix, a foundation that needs repairs, and a neighbor’s pond which still floods onto our property anytime we get over an inch of rain. We have PTSD.

In the December 2023 storm we flooded again. This time the circumstances were much scarier resulting in a call to 911. Proctorsville Fire Dept you are forever in my heart. Thank you for holding me that day while I wept into one of your volunteers arms.

In the year since we flooded I have learned how to recognize when I’m starting to have a panic attack around the weather. I had a moment of reckoning in my kitchen when I realized that every time I open the basement door I see the murky water that my husband descended into. We have pumps in our basement that are constantly running and auxiliary pumps that we deploy when the weather necessitates. We have waders and rubber boots, dehumidifiers, and industrial fans. I have learned how to read weather reports very carefully with a new understanding that rain with snow on the ground means one thing, rain during a dry spell means another thing, and a string of storms back to back means one more thing. Every weather report indicating rain requires a moment of analysis and possible decision: do I need to be home to possibly turn on more pumps or do I not need to worry.

Up until a few weeks ago rain of any kind was a concern. Then, during the first warm rain of the summer season my husband took me outside to the porch and we sat and watched together letting the finer drops land on us. It was nice. It was more than nice. It was lovely. It was a shift in my relationship with an element that had been my adversary for a year. It was a moment of healing that I am so grateful for. I’m starting to enjoy the rain a bit more though, I am still wary of it at times. I know the pumps downstairs are working. I know we have the extra ones for when we need them. I know that we will get through to the other side of this, I just don’t know when.