Disasters, floods and one badass mom.

It's been one helluva week.

In case you haven't heard, Nashville is flooded.
Middle Tennessee is flooded.
Western Tennessee is flooded.
This is disaster.

On Saturday, my husband and I watched a live feed of Interstate 24, westbound.
He turned to me saying, "But that's the interstate -- the interstate doesn't flood."
We watched as traffic merged into one lane as Mill Creek pushed over its banks.
Within three minutes, cars began floating into one another.
Passengers were crawling out of their windows, fleeing to the eastbound lanes that still had moving traffic.

It never stopped raining.

We woke up early for a Sunday. Thunder booms and a frightened baby.
At 9am I decided to call my mom, to let her know that we were fine, to make sure that she was safe.
She told me they had closed the road in front of her house.
The Harpeth River was making its way across Bellevue.
While on the phone with her, I could hear an emergency official ask if she was alright.
Telling her to get to the second story.
"I'm okay. I walk with a cane, but I'll be alright."

Within the hour she was evacuated.
And it would be hours still until I would speak with her again.

Waiting for her to call, I watched the news as helicopters flew over Bellevue, over River Plantation.



That's when I couldn't stop shaking.
My jaw locked up and I could only chatter my responses.

Ryan was amazing.
He called around to find a friend, who had a friend, whose mother also lived in River Plantation.
He told me that everything was going to be fine.
And then he went to go find my mom.

Moments after he left, she called.
And then everything was okay.

Because she's Sister Rose. She's my strength and my faith.
And she's my mom.

She's persevered through heart break, pneumonia and paralysis.
She's raised three goofy half-asian kids and dealt with my sister as a teenager.
She's spent more than half of her life living in strange countries; thousands of miles away from her home, her country, her family.
She endured 10 months of agonizing and excruciating physical therapy --
and she walked away from it.
She has flourished and she has always persevered.

And she sure as hell won't let a flood defeat her now.



Plus, two years ago, when I called her up and said, "Um...Ryan and I just eloped..." She didn't get mad.
So that makes her a supreme badass.