NO PLACE LIKE HOME | THE DISASTER DIARY: ENTRY 4
Imagine for a moment, if you will, being stranded in the middle of a rainforest in the dead of night, armed only with your natural abilities, instincts, intelligence and a dull machete.
I woke up this morning feeling depleted, defeated, deflated and depressed. It is now officially 2 weeks since we have been given the order to vacate and we are still staying in hotels. Before this whole ordeal, I thought my wife and I had pretty complicated, busy lives. We both have fulltime jobs and are fulltime parents with all the responsibilities and entanglements that come with it. On top of the day job, I also try to get some writing done when I am not changing pampers or picking up my oldest daughter from Tae Kwon Do.
I never in a million years would have thought I would be without a home to live in. My parents, hardworking immigrants from the Dominican Republic, came to this great country in the late 60’s with very little resources but an indefatigable will to work and to provide for their children. The values they have instilled in me have given me a solid foundation and have ensured that I, in turn, could do the same for my children. In 2001, my motherinlaw, my wife and I pooled our resources and purchased our first home in the town of Lodi in Bergen County, our own a little piece of the American dream.