I reassured my friend the other day, saying there was no need for any” guilt”. She had tearfully shared with me the burden of “survivor’s guilt” lingering among those who emerged physically unscathed from the 2022 floods. Witnessing the trauma within my own family, I’ve observed their heightened anxiety at the mere hint of heavy rain or storms.
While I can’t fully comprehend the harrowing experience they endured that night, escaping the rising floodwaters, I dedicated considerable time that evening offering support over the phone.
As I’ve travelled around Lismore over the last couple of weeks, the remnants of the dual floods from almost two years ago are still palpable. Numerous buildings remain in a state of disrepair, serving as visible reminders of the devastation. In the street where my sister resides, only two neighboring houses are occupied, with broken windows still bearing witness to the vacant ones. The ongoing ‘buy back scheme,’ initiated by the state government purchasing houses at pre-flood market values, hints at a future where the area might transform into open paddocks or a raised industrial estate.
Conversations with family and friends reveal the deep-seated pain that lingers. However, amidst the struggles, there’s a spirit of optimism, signaling a collective readiness for a new chapter. Many have chosen to leave Lismore, while others, like my family, are making plans to relocate to higher ground.
In an effort to commemorate the city’s resilience, I’ve undertaken a project on Facebook called “Lismore Landmarks,'” sharing photographs of me at various locations around town.
I suppose it will all flood again on the lower lands and it is wise to move up a hill, but for some it must be a terrible wrench. The landmark project seems like a great idea.
Many thanks Andrew. It won’t be easy, and many people will prefer to stay behind. Many others won’t have a choice, failing to qualify for the buyback, or not owning their own home.