Editor's Note

I breathed a hefty sigh of relief last Sunday, as flight VA617 pulled itself up through rumbling clouds to break through to the first clear sky I’d seen in days. I looked out of the window at a sodden Brisbane CBD, usually twinkling with the vibrancy of cars in a form of organised chaos, now slowly submerging suburb by suburb under brown muddy water.

The only way I can describe the rain was incessant and relentless, for days it peltered down, never letting up, much like being in a cyclone but with much less wind. A 5-second dash from your car into shelter still soaked you to the bone. Streets quickly became like rivers, making it near impossible to distinguish shallow from deep. I only lost a few hours due to a delayed flight, while others just a few hours further south, from Gympie to northern New South Wales, have lost everything.

Queenslanders are resilient. Brisbane will rebuild, communities will rally and neighbours will look out for one another. But that doesn’t bring back the priceless possessions or loss of life that many families have had to endure. A new house can be built, but it won’t have the marks on the doorframe from children growing up. New clothes can be bought, but a worn wedding dress can’t be replaced. Books can be borrowed from a library, but the stamp collection album handed down by your grandmother will never be seen again.

I’ve taken this opportunity to look at the things I have that can’t be replaced. An old weather station where the man with the umbrella comes out when it’s going to rain, that was my grandmother’s and I ‘checked the weather’ every time I visited her. A painting of Milford Sound, the place I think is one of the prettiest on Earth, painted by my mother and gifted to me for my 21st. My husband’s military medals and a painting of him from the Somme in France when he returned the ‘Unknown Warrior’ back to the Tomb of Remembrance in Wellington.

During a crisis, I might not remember these things, so I’ve written a list to go with my emergency kit, so if I have the opportunity, I can take those things that, in my eyes, are priceless. And a reminder to check your insurance policy to make sure you’re covered for Mother Nature’s fury, whatever form that happens to take.

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