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September 11, 2005
'Nola' Speaks
I don't have a nickname for my close auntie. She's my mother's sister and the one whom I've mostly be sweating about in the past week. She asked me to publish her letter to us in the family. I will but will call her my darling auntie 'Nola'.
Dear Family,I have never felt more connected to all of you than I do at this moment. I am deeply touched by your love and generosity at this time of crisis.
My departure from New Orleans was totally spontaneous. I was not listening to my rational mind. It was on Saturday, and a day when very few people were seriously thinking of leaving. Even those of us who drove toward Baton Rouge as I did, did not find any long delays in traffic. I fully intended to be away no more than 48 hours.
I left without such essentials as telephone numbers, personal papers and not even the barest essentials. I found myself responding purely on intuition for the next six days on the road. The worst part was the endless back roads I took; especially thru Louisiana, Arkansas and Mississippi. I was so grateful that I am pretty proficient at reading maps and used to driving the blue lines on the map. I was surely operating on automatic for long hours.
The traffic was horrendous on all paths leading out of the Gulf States. The gasoline lines in some places stretched over a mile in both directions leading into a station. Each day at sunset came the arduous task of trying to find a room; preferably two since I was traveling with 'Cousin B' and I desperately needed the privacy to follow the news into the night as I fell asleep and the first thing in the morning as I prepared to leave. Each day I checked from one station to another trying to find a clear channel on the radio (which was difficult on the back roads).
I began to not recognize the haggard face I saw in the mirror and even more disturbing was the feeling of “being an observer” of this haggard stranger that spoke and acted in a monotone, and that the stranger was me.One afternoon in Tennessee I went to Wal-Mart to pick up some essentials and I found myself inside of my car and totally ignorant about what had happened to my purchases. After frantically searching the parking lot for my basket, I finally checked the trunk of the car. I had loaded my purchases “on automatic” without remembering.
That feeling of disorientation continued. It was a relief when I was finally able to cry after the fourth day. I have not cried like that since I was a child. I was totally overwhelmed with grief.
All of the above said, I am well aware how blessed both [your cousin B] and I are. I am also happy that in some way, my leaving as I did inspired 'Uncle C' to convince his daughter 'GG' to leave with him and with her four children on Sunday morning.
Even in the middle of it all, my mind kept returning to an inner dialogue of how I can help. I believe that I will go back as soon as it is safe to do so. The work that I have been involved in for the past 10+ years has given shape and meaning to my life. I cannot “not go back”.
In the meantime, I’m here and I’m taking one day at a time. This is only the end of Week 1 and I already feel the effects of a “time slow down” that happens in times of crisis.
I love all of you!
I’ll stay in touch,
'Nola',
Milwaukee, WIPS Please copy this letter on the web to everyone. Thanks!
We are surely blessed.
Posted by mbowen at September 11, 2005 02:17 PM
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Comments
Blessed indeed I am glad to hear the good news
Posted by: JR at September 11, 2005 04:25 PM
A rare spot of good news.
Posted by: George at September 11, 2005 10:16 PM
Not an ounce of self pity in Aunt "Nola". Thank you for sharing her letter.
Posted by: Allen at September 13, 2005 07:57 AM
Not an ounce of self pity in Aunt "Nola". Thank you for sharing her letter.
Posted by: Allen at September 13, 2005 07:58 AM