When I walked into Joy’s house for the first time Monday morning it was a surreal sight. Our mission was to clear out the house of her belongings and strip the walls down to the studs so that the house could be rebuilt. Some of the windows were shattered and parts of the roof were caved in which allowed for the house, and everything in it, to be exposed to the elements for the six months prior to our arrival. The entire house had water damage and the mold was so bad that we needed to wear hazmat suits at all times to protect ourselves. The team began clearing out the living room and kitchen area of the house. It did not matter if it was a kitchen appliance or a tv, everything went out the front door and off the balcony to the ground below without much of a second thought. The gravity of our work did not hit me until I made myself to the back of the house where the bedrooms were located. In the main area of the house, I threw everything out without a second thought, but when I turned the corner to look inside the master bedroom everything changed.

I stood there for several seconds in silence as I took in what was before me. Most of the rest of the team was in the bedroom sorting through Joy’s personal items, so we could save the possessions she valued most. As I watched them handle her priceless photographs, yearbooks containing unforgettable memories, and memorabilia of lost loved ones I realized something. It was not a TV that I was throwing out, it was Joy’s TV. It was not a dresser that I was throwing out, it was Joy’s dresser. We were holding a woman’s entire life in our hands. Every piece of furniture, every kitchen utensil, every DVD I threw over the balcony I was also throwing out a part of Joy’s life and it was my responsibility to handle her items with the dignity and respect that they deserved. Nothing really prepares you for a moment like that.

Plastered all across the island were signs saying, “Return. Rebuild. Rebirth. We’re in this together.” Rebirth. What a beautiful thing that can be, but there is something almost humorous about it. The beauty of rebirth requires a passing to occur. A passing of the life we once had. It was clear that these signs were talking about a rebirth of the island to its former beauty, but I could not help but draw comparisons to the work we were doing in Joy’s house. By clearing out her possessions we were allowing her to pass on from her life before the hurricane and begin the process of her rebirth. It was because of our actions that she was able to start healing the hurricane-sized hole in her heart and knowing that fact brings me more joy than anything I have experienced in a very long time.