my brother's keeper...

i guess it was 15 years ago that hurricane andrew hit the home i grew up in....i can still remember what the sky looked like and how the air smelled, the sound of the wind, the faces in the room.
things were never exactly the same in homestead, florida but you could count on the people. everywhere you went, every line you stood in, everyone had a story. people just kept telling stories, for years, until so much time had past we said everything that needed to be said. we talked and we worked, other people came and they listened and worked along side us.

what happens when you can't work, when no one comes, no one is there to hear your story. the story becomes longer, and more time and more hurt goes by and you are left wondering if anyone cares at all....i know this- you can't even begin to rebuild until you start telling stories and someone that cares listens, really listens...




thank you in pursuit of perfection for sharing this...