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Thanksgiving is the big kickoff of a long holiday season filled with joy and happiness. Or so the story goes.

It isn’t easy to be happy during these days filled with uncertainty. We have entered a period of unsettled journey and unknown destination. And if that weren’t bad enough, even those who were seemingly spared Helene’s wrath feel the hurricane grievously injured us in many different ways.

We still feel anguish over the enormous loss of life. More than 100 men, women and children were swept into eternity. Many were injured, left behind to struggle no less than wounded soldiers on a battlefield.

The magnitude of the raging rivers often seems more than we can fathom. Homes and businesses once snuggled and embedded on the banks of the Green, Broad and other rivers were there one day, gone the next.

The rage left behind scarred ground to shock our eyes. Scarred bodies and minds to break our hearts.

Day and night, people have worked to clean up an unimaginable mess. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, have volunteered their skills and labored to mend the twisted and mangled.

Government officials have worked with little or no break to help people get to more solid ground. Workers at insurance companies, hospitals, restaurants, gas stations, and small businesses have seen the misery in the eyes of victims and, thus, in many cases, been affected by that. To feel guilt when spared a catastrophe that others have to endure is a thing. It happens.

Western North Carolina has taken a mighty blow that we will feel for decades, some for generations. Like you, I love our piece of earth in these parts. The rivers, streams, lakes, mountains, meadows, farmland, forests, country roads, and unique towns are a quiltwork of a life so special that when outsiders see it, they want to see it again.

We need a lot of help. We don’t know if we will get the state and federal help we deserve. We do know that our state government has a track record of giving us pennies while dollars go elsewhere, making us feel inconsequential.

And so we grieve. As we should. It was a life-altering event, a timber cracker. Many will never regain the life they enjoyed two months ago. Those of us spared are left to mourn the losses.

Larry McDermott is a local retired farmer/journalist. Reach him at hardscrabblehollow@gmail.com