I thought that I’d prepared myself. I’d seen the pictures and I’d spoken to my family several times, so I thought that I was ready. But, as we pulled into town and I first witnessed the destruction that is now Greensburg, I discovered that I was nowhere near ready. I became hysterical. I’ve never seen or smelled anything like that.

The first place my husband, Chad, and I were going to go was to my grandparents’ house. But, I couldn’t find it. What would have normally been a 5-minute trip from the city limits to their house, took almost 30. We finally found the church that sat to the north of them and that led us to their house.

When I got out of the car, my mom immediately grabbed me. We just held each other and cried. Then, as I walked toward my grandfather, I saw that there were two young men standing with him. They were two of the volunteers that had come to help. One of them was from Pennsylvania and one was from Delaware. They didn’t have family in Greensburg. They didn’t know anyone there. They just came down because they knew that they would be needed.

I’ve never seen my grandparents look the way they looked that day. They both looked lost. My grandparents have always been extremely strong, but on that day I realized that even they had been crushed.

Mom and I decided that we were going to drive around for awhile. I wanted to see the cemetery and my cousin Doug’s house. I wanted to see the lake, which is actually more of a pond, but it’s where my granddad taught me to fish. I wanted to know what had become of the soda shop and the theatre where I’d spent so many hours. I had to see the Big Well and the park where I’d played as a child with my Grammy and where my son Lucas first learned how to swing. It’s all gone. Everything that I’ve known my entire life is gone.

My mom wanted me to get a tetanus shot just in case. When we stopped for the shot, some ladies from Dillons’ were delivering flowers to the women in town for Mothers Day. They handed me 12 dozen roses. My mom and I split them up and decided that we were going to give a rose to every mother we saw.

As I walked around town handing out these roses, I realized something very important. The families in this town have known each other for years, some all of their lives. They’ve laughed together, cried together, celebrated birthdays and births, and held each other when their loved ones died. But, because of this tragedy, they are now bonded together in a way that is indescribable. They will never be the same.

Every woman that we gave a rose to did the same thing – they smelled it. A lot of them said, “I’d forgotten that that was tomorrow.” It felt nice to bring a little bit of normalcy back into a world that will never be “normal” again.

Greensburg will rebuild. They are determined to start over and to make the town bigger and better than it has ever been. But, it will never be Greensburg again. My Greensburg is now nothing more than a lot of happy memories and rubble.