Crawling Back Into My Hole, Sort Of

September 4, 2005

I have a nice comfortable life, I am the first to admit that.

I have decided that I can no longer listen to the news about all the horrors that were going on in New Orleans. I just can’t do it. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. It makes me feel helpless. It makes me want wrap my children up and protect them.

Last night I was sitting on the couch holding my baby son in my arms. Rob was switching around watching news, baseball games, and random bits of movies. Such is the joy of watching television with someone who probably has ADD.

My son was cranky and burning up with a 102 degree fever. This is the first time he has ever been sick. I was nursing him and he was looking into my eyes. Every now and then he would let out a tiny moan, as if to remind me that he wasn’t feeling well. I rubbed his sweaty little head knowing that the Tylenol I gave him would soon make him feel better.

My daughter was sitting next to me curled up with her fingers in her mouth and her blanket in her hand. I heard music on the television and looked up to see images of horror set to music. A macabre music video.

I hate that.

Do I need to be manipulated by music to tell me how I should feel? Aren’t the images enough? I turned her head away and stroked her hair. I wanted to shield her from the images. I wanted to tell her that it was pretend, that things like this don’t really happen.

The song News* by Jack Johnson popped into my head.

How grateful I am to have this luxury. While other mothers are worrying about how they will feed and clothe their children, I get to worry about how much bubble wrap I can seal my children in before they suffocate. It’s not fair.

*Lyrics

A billion people died on the news tonight
But not so many cried at the terrible sight
Well mama said
It’s just make believe
You can’t believe everything you see
So baby close your eyes to the lullabies
On the news tonight

Mama said
It’s just make believe
You cant believe everything you see
So baby close your eyes to the lullabies
On the news tonight

In Which I Ramble On And On And Really Go Nowhere

September 2, 2005

Today I went to the dentist, again.

First though I filled my car with gasoline, just for fun. Oh wait that was a different post. Nevermind.

I listened to music radio, as I needed the break from the news. I just couldn’t listen to the reports from New Orleans anymore. One radio station was having a fundraiser for the Red Cross. If you called up and donated money you could pick whatever song you wanted and they would play it. People were so incredibly generous that it really did my heart good.

That and you really can’t listen to the song Y-M-C-A and not smile, for the song and well, The Village People themselves. Then there was the father who called up and apologized profusely for his song selection chosen by his daughter, he willingly requested a song by Hillary Duff and said his name on the air. The correction officers who called as a group and made a hefty donation made me chuckle when they asked for the song, I Fought the law, and the law won.

At the dentist I requested that my television be turned off. Having dental work done brings me close enough to a nervous breakdown I don’t need CNN to put me right over the edge.

So yeah, where was I in this dull recounting of my day. I had the impressions taken for the molds for my permanent caps, or crowns, whatever you call them. Personally I am going with chapeau, in keeping with my new found embracing of the vowel “u” whenever I can.

Yes that is plural. (Insert a joke here about me being toothless and full of class. I don’t have one so make up your own and laugh appropriately) I could have had a brand new car, but I have something better… TEETH! But at least we have really good dental insurance so it would only be a small piece of junk like the Ford Aspire-to-be-a-real-car. Who decides these car names anyway?

The exciting part was that I got to pick the color of my new teeth, within the white family obviously. I told the dentist I wanted them to look like I had white Chicklets lined up in my mouth. I want to blind people when I smile. I want them to glow in the dark.

So after a three hour long appointment I was ready to go home, new temporary chapeaus in my numb mouth.

I drove down the highway, listening to my baby son giggle at his Elmo toy, while it played “la la la la, la la la la, Elmo’s world” over and over and over again.

Suddenly a car in the left lane swerved across the dividing line. A big SUV type car in front of me in the right lane swerved off to the shoulder.

Time is so elastic. It happened so slow, yet it happened faster than I could even react to take my foot from the gas pedal to the brake. I had time to think about lots of things. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the cars, willing them to stay away from me.

After an eternity that lasted no more than the blink of an eye, my car safely passed by. The SUV wasn’t so lucky. It rolled several times before stopping on it’s side against a tree.

My sons Elmo toy was still serenading me from the backseat.

In the blink of an eye it could have all been different.

I took a sip from my water bottle, forgetting for a brief moment that my mouth was completely numb. The water dribbled out of my mouth. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I wiped the drool off my chin.

And I thought the same thing I have thought many times. How did I get so lucky in this life?

My Own Public Service Announcement

In case anyone missed it, last night Rob heard on the radio that George Bush was telling all Americans not to buy gas, unless you need to.

Good thing he told us that. We routinely buy gas when we don’t need it.

Ass.

Being Blessed

September 1, 2005

Niki just wrote on her blog how blessed she feels in the midst of all the tragedy that is going on.

A common thread that has woven it’s way through people’s blogs yesterday and today. Even on days when there is nothing bad going on in the world, I question how I got so lucky to have the life I do.

But I have to wonder if I would feel that way if it were me and my family who had lost everything, or rather all of our material possessions. I’m not sure I could be so gracious.

Niki is from New Orleans. She lost everything she didn’t have with her.

She was on he way home from Bulgaria and Romania, a missionary trip where she “danced with the Gypsies”. She was in the air flying home as Katrina hit. She is an incredible photographer, funny as hell (I hope that’s an okay way to describe someone who does missionary work… funny as God himself? would that be better. I dunno), and a genuinely nice person.

Go visit her blog and give her some love. Who can’t use a little more love in their life.

When Words Fail

Sometimes you realize that our language does not have the ability to convey fully the things we wish to express.

The horror.

The anguish of people losing everything.

The anger at the looters who are more interested in their own personal gain.

The sadness that people like the looters even exist.

The terror that mothers must have felt hanging on to their children as flood waters rose.

The fear in not being able to find your loved ones.

The realization that the dead bodies they keep talking about are someone’s mother, father, son, daughter, friend… more than a body, a person who will be missed.

The utter disbelief that people can loot a children’s hospital and shoot at rescue workers.

The feeling of helplessness.

The miraculous recoveries that are too few.

The acts of heroism you cling to, hoping that there really are more good people than evil ones in this world.

The hope that your faith in humankind, in God, in something will be restored.

The need to hug your babies a little tighter.

The sadness that threads through the day and catches in your throat.

Being thankful it isn’t you and hating yourself for even thinking it.

There aren’t words to encompass all of it. There simply aren’t words.