We arrived in Georgia on Saturday evening and we remained glued to the TV for the rest of the week. We all watched as the city we loved seemed to fall apart before our eyes.It was almost surreal that this was really happening. We would beg for the TV cameras who were filming from the helicopters going around town to fly a little further to the left or right in hopes of seeing what our homes looked like. It was a helpless feeling. Cell phones weren't working so we were very limited in our communication with family and friends who were spread out across the southeast. Like I said, it didn't feel real. It was hard to believe that it was really happening to us.
Michael obviously accepted the job in Georgia. What else were we supposed to do? Someone has to have a job to go to. I was working at Commander's Palace Restaurant. I sure wasn't going to be planning any events anytime in the future. The city was in complete turmoil.
I can't even count the number of nights I cried myself to sleep. It was all so heartbreaking. One day we had one life and the next day we had another. We knew there was a possibility of us leaving New Orleans anyway, but not like this. There were no goodbyes, no going away celebrations, no "last time" here or there. It was like having a band aid ripped off.
I still have an email that I wrote to a friend right after the storm and I talked about how it's the normalcy that I missed. It was the comforts of home and the simple stuff. I could drive to work with my eyes closed because I knew the city so well. I had my favorite grocery store. I loved my job. Not to mention my family and friends. I know that may sound stupid, but when you are completely starting over it's the silliest things you miss.
I have to stop myself and say-- I am incredibly blessed. I did not lose my home in the storm. I know too many friends and loved ones who lost everything and they have an even more heartbreaking story than mine. We all have a story. No matter what the loss in material items we are all still scared by the whole thing.
It was the loss of a city that we loved. Sure it will go on and the city will recover, but it will never be the same. We could no longer avoid the topic of "the" storm or all the questions of "what if the levees fail?" We knew the answers now. Everyone's worst fears were realized.
We were able to sell our home and move on with our life in Georgia. Again, we were very blessed.
I can remember feeling such anger in the weeks and months after the storm. I would walk through a store in Georgia and I would look at people going on with their normal lives and I would think, "The audacity of these people to just carry on like nothing is wrong!" I envied their normalcy, that they could carry on with their everyday occurrences.
I went back to NOLA twice before we finally moved. I have never experienced anything so eeriy. The first time I flew in I was in awe. We drove straight home and it took me a day and a half to leave the house. The short drive to the house and all I saw was enough to scare me. It was like a bomb had hit. No leaves on trees, huge branches missing from trees, sunlight where there had always been shade. No birds, no animals. Sounds of helicopters, hammers, chain saws. No gas stations open. I went to the grocery store and only 2 aisles had food. There was no music on in the grocery. You don't realize how strange it is to have a silent store.
I finally felt brave enough to go to my own house. I cried the whole way there. As I drove I could barely look straight because I was surveying the damage to the left and right. It felt so raw and invasive. Everyone's stuff was on the lawn and curb-- tables, chairs, desks, dressers, toys, appliances, you name it and it was out there. It was so strange to see items so personal displayed for everyone to see.
For those of you who have dealt with hurricanes you know what it's like to return after you've left. Your home is in complete disarray. Everything is moved around. What can be lifted off the floor is raised. Pictures and mirrors are off the wall so not to become flying debris is a window should break, it's just a mess. I walked around our house, our first house, the house we had our first baby in, the house that was filled with all of our comforts. Of course more tears followed.
Again, I can't say enough how lucky we were. This is just my story. It's my version to save and remember and pass on to my kiddos. It's a part of who I am.
The hardest part for Michael and I was watching our parents suffer through all they went through in the year following the storm. They are going to be upset if they read this but -it aged them. It wore them out. It was physically, emotionally mentally and financially draining. They had to fight with insurance companies, get quotes and claims and contractors and subcontractors along with thousands of other people battling the same thing. It's a level of stress that can completely wear a person down.
As hard as the storm was on all of our parents one of the worst parts was having us leave. William is their first grandbaby. At the time he was the only one living in the same city as them and he was their light! It broke our hearts to take that away from them. (It still does.) As wonderful parents do, they encouraged us to begin a new life and live in a city that could offer us things New Orleans couldn't.
I could write forever about this because there are so many parts of the story, but I wanted to finish up what I started.
I just want to be sure that it is clear that my loss in the storm is minute in comparison to so many people. This is not meant to be a pity party is merely one version of one part of the whole event. What if, when you left work today you never went back? What if the house you left today wasn't there when you came home? What if your life as you know it today no longer existed tomorrow?
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