Monday, August 29, 2011
six
*I have never been able to write about Katrina. My journal entries are filled with scattered thoughts and images that I can't seem to forget. I started working on a piece for today but it has taken too much out of me. Trying to tell my story from start to finish is just too much. I can't. Instead of ignoring the anniversary all together I decided to post some of my thoughts as they come. It may not make sense but it's the only way I can share a little of my experiences with you. So, here goes...
I'll never forget the water.
I'll never forget the bodies.
I'll never forget the mentality.
Brutality.
Tears of a city.
I remember being so proud of my city's strength through the storm.
Canal Street had some wind damage but looked good.
Bourbon Street bars were without power but had beer.
Whew! Relief.
We made it!
Let's pray for Mississippi.
Water
So much water.
Never ending.
Filling the streets.
I saw my soul wash away.
Watched my heart move in pieces.
With the filth.
I cried for my love.
I cried for myself.
I cried for my future.
I cried for my grandfather.
I said, "thank you, we're alive"
gunshots
violence
death
destruction
Lord of the Flies
kill or be killed
my mothers tears
everyone's mother's tears
starving children
dying grandparents
bus stops for the dead
in a city full of ghosts
demons walking the streets
lost minds hidden in fear
no control
help.
help them.
help us.
please.
help.
help is coming!
all will be ok.
help killed
helicopters shot down
boats turned away
zombie police
rogue ambulances
all is lost.
we are alone.
stop!
stop behaving like animals!
we are better than this
we are better than this
let down by government
let down by levees
let down by humanity
days of darkness
Pray for us.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Behavior Plan?
So the day has come and gone. August 22, 2011 has reared it's ugly head but we were not afraid! (Well, I was. A little.) We pushed forward with our heads held high, our shirts tucked in, and our laces tied tight! That's right ladies and gentlemen, Aiden (and I) conquered his very first day of Kindergarten! Can you believe it? I know, right?!
Aiden was excited about school from the moment he opened his eyes this morning. I'll admit that I was a little excited, too. Not so much because he was going to school but because he was already awake when my alarm went off and I didn't have a sleepy monster on my hands. He got dressed with little help and even tucked his shirt in with some mild instruction from his dad. He put his school bag on by himself and picked up his snack bag with a smile on his face. I was relieved that he was excited but my mommy feelings kicked in and found myself fighting back tears.
As we pulled up to the front of the school I let myself absorb the beauty of it. The building has been there since the early 20's and man-oh-man, is it a sight! Decorative steeples and arched windows are nothing compared to the enormous, red doors that seem to attract the sun's rays. Above the arch of the doorway, there is a beautiful Miraculous Mary statue welcoming the children with open arms. In my opinion, that image of Mary is perfect for the front of a school. She stands tall with sincerity and love on her face and arms outstretched ready to give deep hugs. The kind that make everything better. To me, she is the image that would bring peace to all children.
As Aiden stepped out of the car, Albert instinctively went to take his hand and I could hear Aiden say, "Dad! I'm a big kid now, you don't have to hold my hand. And I can get my bags by myself, too." Albert laughed it off but I could tell it hurt him. Just one of a million tiny cuts we, as parents, endure over the years. Aiden grabbed his bags and marched right up to those doors like he had been doing it all along and we were the new students...I watched with pride and heartache.
The next 20 minutes or so were even more amazing. Aiden picked up his tray of breakfast and milk, sat down to eat, and then threw away all his trash. (All by himself! I didn't have to say anything!) Not too long after that the time had come for the students to go upstairs to their classrooms. Without us. I walked him to the base of those wretched stairs, got my kiss and hug, and watched him climb to the unknown. He didn't even look back. Sucker. I think he knew he had to be strong for the both of us and he was. I spent the next 2 hours fighting the urge to cry that "ugly cry" and only allowed myself a few tears here and there.
I drifted through the rest of my day in a fog. A relentless fog that would not leave me until it was time to pick Aiden up from school. I got a pep in my step and found my purpose. All was finally right with the world...
His class was the last group down and his poor teacher looked...tired. Really, she looked a bit disappointed. Like when you meet your favorite celebrity and they turn out to be an asshole. You know, that deflated look. I thought I could offer a few words of encouragement, something to let her know that we were in her corner. I started to make my way through the crowd. To my surprise, she was coming my way with a look that said she had something to say to ME. I was excited! As soon as she was sure I could hear her, she erupted. Not a violent, dramatic eruption, but a slow and steady spew that took it's time. First question out of her mouth was, "Is there a...Do you have a....code word or something?" I was stunned silent and I'm pretty sure my mouth was left hanging when my face went blank. As she continued her soft flow of words I stood there wondering what in the hell she was talking about. You mean to tell me that my sweet, baby, angel Aiden was a handful today? He liked to talk? What? He wanted to play with everything and everyone and had a hard time focusing? What? You mean my 5 year old boy, with NO classroom experience, was excited to be surrounded by 23 children his own age? Oh, and he had a hard time focusing and following directions that were said to him in Spanish? Wow.
After she was finished I asked if she had any suggestions for me and she said, "Well that's what I was asking you. Do you have any suggestions for me?"
*a pause*
Ummmmmmm, no?....
I wish I could have been more help, I really do, but I spent hours filling out forms explaining that Aiden is an unusually bright, articulate, gifted child with ZERO classroom etiquette. Of course she was blindsided, she didn't bother to pick up any of the forms I packed. She didn't even send anything home for me to discuss with him. (She said she ran out of time.)
Now, don't get me wrong, I like her. She is sweet. A soft spoken girl with a beautiful smile and cloudy bluish-green eyes. I knew Aiden would NEVER take her seriously unless she had a darker side. Or, unless she was super organized and came in with a game plan. Bottom line, she wasn't prepared and Aiden took advantage. Now, she's home with a headache wondering if she's on the right path in her life and Aiden is home, exhausted and punished from all video games. I hope they both learned from this first day. I know I did! Tomorrow, I will enjoy my day!
Aiden was excited about school from the moment he opened his eyes this morning. I'll admit that I was a little excited, too. Not so much because he was going to school but because he was already awake when my alarm went off and I didn't have a sleepy monster on my hands. He got dressed with little help and even tucked his shirt in with some mild instruction from his dad. He put his school bag on by himself and picked up his snack bag with a smile on his face. I was relieved that he was excited but my mommy feelings kicked in and found myself fighting back tears.
As we pulled up to the front of the school I let myself absorb the beauty of it. The building has been there since the early 20's and man-oh-man, is it a sight! Decorative steeples and arched windows are nothing compared to the enormous, red doors that seem to attract the sun's rays. Above the arch of the doorway, there is a beautiful Miraculous Mary statue welcoming the children with open arms. In my opinion, that image of Mary is perfect for the front of a school. She stands tall with sincerity and love on her face and arms outstretched ready to give deep hugs. The kind that make everything better. To me, she is the image that would bring peace to all children.
As Aiden stepped out of the car, Albert instinctively went to take his hand and I could hear Aiden say, "Dad! I'm a big kid now, you don't have to hold my hand. And I can get my bags by myself, too." Albert laughed it off but I could tell it hurt him. Just one of a million tiny cuts we, as parents, endure over the years. Aiden grabbed his bags and marched right up to those doors like he had been doing it all along and we were the new students...I watched with pride and heartache.
The next 20 minutes or so were even more amazing. Aiden picked up his tray of breakfast and milk, sat down to eat, and then threw away all his trash. (All by himself! I didn't have to say anything!) Not too long after that the time had come for the students to go upstairs to their classrooms. Without us. I walked him to the base of those wretched stairs, got my kiss and hug, and watched him climb to the unknown. He didn't even look back. Sucker. I think he knew he had to be strong for the both of us and he was. I spent the next 2 hours fighting the urge to cry that "ugly cry" and only allowed myself a few tears here and there.
I drifted through the rest of my day in a fog. A relentless fog that would not leave me until it was time to pick Aiden up from school. I got a pep in my step and found my purpose. All was finally right with the world...
His class was the last group down and his poor teacher looked...tired. Really, she looked a bit disappointed. Like when you meet your favorite celebrity and they turn out to be an asshole. You know, that deflated look. I thought I could offer a few words of encouragement, something to let her know that we were in her corner. I started to make my way through the crowd. To my surprise, she was coming my way with a look that said she had something to say to ME. I was excited! As soon as she was sure I could hear her, she erupted. Not a violent, dramatic eruption, but a slow and steady spew that took it's time. First question out of her mouth was, "Is there a...Do you have a....code word or something?" I was stunned silent and I'm pretty sure my mouth was left hanging when my face went blank. As she continued her soft flow of words I stood there wondering what in the hell she was talking about. You mean to tell me that my sweet, baby, angel Aiden was a handful today? He liked to talk? What? He wanted to play with everything and everyone and had a hard time focusing? What? You mean my 5 year old boy, with NO classroom experience, was excited to be surrounded by 23 children his own age? Oh, and he had a hard time focusing and following directions that were said to him in Spanish? Wow.
After she was finished I asked if she had any suggestions for me and she said, "Well that's what I was asking you. Do you have any suggestions for me?"
*a pause*
Ummmmmmm, no?....
I wish I could have been more help, I really do, but I spent hours filling out forms explaining that Aiden is an unusually bright, articulate, gifted child with ZERO classroom etiquette. Of course she was blindsided, she didn't bother to pick up any of the forms I packed. She didn't even send anything home for me to discuss with him. (She said she ran out of time.)
Now, don't get me wrong, I like her. She is sweet. A soft spoken girl with a beautiful smile and cloudy bluish-green eyes. I knew Aiden would NEVER take her seriously unless she had a darker side. Or, unless she was super organized and came in with a game plan. Bottom line, she wasn't prepared and Aiden took advantage. Now, she's home with a headache wondering if she's on the right path in her life and Aiden is home, exhausted and punished from all video games. I hope they both learned from this first day. I know I did! Tomorrow, I will enjoy my day!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Mon Amour
New Orleans is one of those places people visit and unknowingly, they forget. They forget about their boring lives and their beige houses and their bland jobs. The people that come here forget about being uptight or cold and learn to answer questions like, "How's ya momma an'em?" from smiling a stranger. They forget about the world of alcohol laws and crosswalk sections and learn to dance in the street. They stop counting calories, forget their diets, and learn the true meaning of the word "lagniappe". These people forget about time and schedule-keeping and learn to float on the humid, fragrant air as we do. More importantly, people come here and forget who they are at home and learn to be who they want to be. While the locals are applying their masks, the tourists are removing theirs. It's beautiful to watch someone peel back the layers of themselves that they despise and smile from the inside, out.
I like to believe that the geography angels adore me because I was born here, in New Orleans. I was blessed with music in my soul and paint in my heart. I am an artist. We all are. Even your everyday lawyers, teachers, doctors, etc., go home to rainbow streets. Streets where every house is a different color and none of them are white. Sure, we have white houses too, but most are so special that you walk away feeling inspired. These century-old houses were built with pride by people with a dream. The artistic flare and love can be seen in the wood and iron embellishments so intricate that you wonder if anyone else even notices. And every neighborhood, even the poorest, is blanketed in a sea of beautiful green. We love our plants and vines and let them grow as they please. In the spring, when the flowers awake, you feel as though you're walking through a secret garden. God's mural painted just for you.
I'll admit, not everyone loves New Orleans. Some people feel as though it's a place of mazes that they can't escape. They look around and see old buildings and dirty streets as just that, old and dirty. They claw and fight their way out this muddy hole and you know what? They miss her. They brag about her to their foreign friends and vacation here as much as possible. They crave the food and sing songs that most wouldn't recognize as the English language. They paint their new homes in bright colors and hang enormous, glittered wreaths on their front doors for each holiday. These lost, New Orleans people don't understand why the neighbors cringe when they proudly display a purple, green, and gold mask in January. They feel neglected when the neighbors run from them every time they scream "WHODAT" from across the yard. They get their feelings hurt when the neighbors refuse to eat boiled crawfish or answer questions about their families and jobs. Sadly, it just takes a short while for these lost souls to realize that as much as they didn't like it in New Orleans; they don't quite fit in anywhere else. That's when the love and appreciation grow stronger than ever before and they find themselves singing Louis Armstrong's "Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans".
I have always loved New Orleans. I love her culture and her people. I can see her for what she is. She is passion and light. She is open arms and accepting eyes. New Orleans is crisp, cool days in the sun and the sound of children laughing. New Orleans is creativity and soul. New Orleans is a place to forget. A place to learn. A place to remember. New Orleans is me and I am New Orleans. New Orleans is...Mon amour.
I like to believe that the geography angels adore me because I was born here, in New Orleans. I was blessed with music in my soul and paint in my heart. I am an artist. We all are. Even your everyday lawyers, teachers, doctors, etc., go home to rainbow streets. Streets where every house is a different color and none of them are white. Sure, we have white houses too, but most are so special that you walk away feeling inspired. These century-old houses were built with pride by people with a dream. The artistic flare and love can be seen in the wood and iron embellishments so intricate that you wonder if anyone else even notices. And every neighborhood, even the poorest, is blanketed in a sea of beautiful green. We love our plants and vines and let them grow as they please. In the spring, when the flowers awake, you feel as though you're walking through a secret garden. God's mural painted just for you.
I'll admit, not everyone loves New Orleans. Some people feel as though it's a place of mazes that they can't escape. They look around and see old buildings and dirty streets as just that, old and dirty. They claw and fight their way out this muddy hole and you know what? They miss her. They brag about her to their foreign friends and vacation here as much as possible. They crave the food and sing songs that most wouldn't recognize as the English language. They paint their new homes in bright colors and hang enormous, glittered wreaths on their front doors for each holiday. These lost, New Orleans people don't understand why the neighbors cringe when they proudly display a purple, green, and gold mask in January. They feel neglected when the neighbors run from them every time they scream "WHODAT" from across the yard. They get their feelings hurt when the neighbors refuse to eat boiled crawfish or answer questions about their families and jobs. Sadly, it just takes a short while for these lost souls to realize that as much as they didn't like it in New Orleans; they don't quite fit in anywhere else. That's when the love and appreciation grow stronger than ever before and they find themselves singing Louis Armstrong's "Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans".
I have always loved New Orleans. I love her culture and her people. I can see her for what she is. She is passion and light. She is open arms and accepting eyes. New Orleans is crisp, cool days in the sun and the sound of children laughing. New Orleans is creativity and soul. New Orleans is a place to forget. A place to learn. A place to remember. New Orleans is me and I am New Orleans. New Orleans is...Mon amour.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Summer Days
grand isle sunset
florida beach
houston rockabilly
dolphin kisses
congrats soldier
great show, dad
loss of life
loss of love
tears and strangers
heat and roses
family gatherings
friends gained
lost security
broken steel
broken heart
time marches
time changes
time molds
all things
school bell sounds
not yet...
florida beach
houston rockabilly
dolphin kisses
congrats soldier
great show, dad
loss of life
loss of love
tears and strangers
heat and roses
family gatherings
friends gained
lost security
broken steel
broken heart
time marches
time changes
time molds
all things
school bell sounds
not yet...
Emily
beauty crowds me
till I die
sadness haunts me
till I die
reality shakes me
till I die
happiness stalks me
till I die
till I die
sadness haunts me
till I die
reality shakes me
till I die
happiness stalks me
till I die
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
waiting
scales and fur
entangled
in my mind
spider webs and
mangled cars
in his
deep breaths
heavy chest
cold hands
iron heart
waiting for luck
watching for God
entangled
in my mind
spider webs and
mangled cars
in his
deep breaths
heavy chest
cold hands
iron heart
waiting for luck
watching for God
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Mommy's Angel
It was I all could to persuade him. I needed him for this.
When he was finished, I showered, dressed, and we were out the door.
I wanted to plan things out but Jimmy wanted no part in that sort of thing.
"It's not everyday people rob a bank, Jim, do you think we should at least mention a few what-ifs?"
The red around his eyes and dirty flannel shirt made it difficult for me to stare too long but even if I did, he wouldn't have noticed. He was shaking and high. He was like one of those freshly lit bottle rockets we played with as kids; unpredictable. It didn't matter how careful we were, I would always get burned.
"What the fuck you lookin' at?! You want some more?"
"Shut it, Jimmy! I'm just thinkin'..."
These country roads seem to stretch on days like this....all these hilltops and farmland. Fuck. I just keep telling myself that it will all be over soon. It will all be over soon. It will all be over soon. A mantra in my head made better by thoughts of my Angel. He'll be 7 next month and I refuse to break another promise to him.
My Angel. If today goes as planned, I'll have enough money to get my baby and be on my way. I imagine sunshine, laughter, and...
"Hey, Bitch! You ready?" Jimmy said as he was parking on Main.
"Let's Go." I whispered.
When he was finished, I showered, dressed, and we were out the door.
I wanted to plan things out but Jimmy wanted no part in that sort of thing.
"It's not everyday people rob a bank, Jim, do you think we should at least mention a few what-ifs?"
The red around his eyes and dirty flannel shirt made it difficult for me to stare too long but even if I did, he wouldn't have noticed. He was shaking and high. He was like one of those freshly lit bottle rockets we played with as kids; unpredictable. It didn't matter how careful we were, I would always get burned.
"What the fuck you lookin' at?! You want some more?"
"Shut it, Jimmy! I'm just thinkin'..."
These country roads seem to stretch on days like this....all these hilltops and farmland. Fuck. I just keep telling myself that it will all be over soon. It will all be over soon. It will all be over soon. A mantra in my head made better by thoughts of my Angel. He'll be 7 next month and I refuse to break another promise to him.
My Angel. If today goes as planned, I'll have enough money to get my baby and be on my way. I imagine sunshine, laughter, and...
"Hey, Bitch! You ready?" Jimmy said as he was parking on Main.
"Let's Go." I whispered.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)