Diary of a Flood Survivor

I feel like we must have been one of the first cars to get petrol at the newly-reopened service station at Woodburn. They did not have their ATM lines up so were only taking cash. As I walked into the shop, I could smell the newness of the plastic and products as I went to pay for the tank’s worth.

AND the price was the lowest I have seen in a long while.

No doubt, once the ATM lines are up and if they keep the same price, it will be a popular spot.

It makes the town feel like it is back on the road to healing.

Now we just need to see our IGA open and we will be all grown up again.

I recently went to the funeral of the wife of a friend.

It was a very poignant moment to see him reach out and gently touch the coffin next to where he sat in the church during the requiem mass.

Her children read out her own words that she had written about her life and it was interesting to note she was born in the middle of a flood in 1928.

From there, she remembered as a young wife and mother the devastation of 1954’s flood.

When we first arrived on the Northern Rivers, the 1954 flood was spoken about in hushed tones or a type of reverence at the enormity of it.

Without taking away from the devastation that happened during that flood, as many more people lost their lives, I don’t think I have the same awe for it as I once did, now having experienced the aftermath of the 2022 flood.

Little steps.