I’ve been home a few days. Really, days of the week don’t have a lot of meaning right now but being home with power and minimal damage is a balm to my soul.
On Friday, I woke up early to news that I had power back. A big “Thank you” to all the linemen who worked to get the city back up and running. They’re still working hard because parts of the city are still without power. I took time Friday to get some basic groceries and consider what I could cook from my pantry, knowing my fridge and deep freezer were a total loss. Thankfully, with a well stocked pantry, you can make lots of good food.
The drive home was long and tedious. I’m sure some of the traffic was other people coming home, some Labor Day travel traffic, and some was just that Alabama always sucks. It took an extra hour to make the drive, but I had the ‘Good For You’ and ‘We Can Do Hard Things’ podcasts to keep me entertained. I’ve been saying it a lot lately, but I’m so grateful for Whitney Cummings and Glennon Doyle (along with her sister, Amanda, and wife, Abby Wambach). I’m going to write a separate post on the gems I gleaned from those hours of listening.
Shortly before entering Louisiana, in the long stretch that is Mississippi, there were wildflowers along the roadside and masses of yellow butterflies alighting among them. For those who have followed the last few years, my mother and I have associated these butterflies with my sister. As I started to feel emotional as I approached home, it felt like a light touch to remind me spiritually that the journey, however taxing, was worth it. When I crossed the tall bridge into St Tammany Parish, I began to weep. Okay, I began to ugly cry. Weeping sounds so soft. Instead, I was feeling my heart crack open and I wasn’t going to hold it back. I let the tears fall as I sought out a tissue in my console to wipe my face dry. I continued sobbing as I crossed all the bridges that bring me to New Orleans- the twin spans and the Industrial Canal. I saw the city rising up in the distance with a light haze around the skyscrapers. I couldn’t see The Dome yet, but I knew it was there, waiting for me.
My momma had the wisdom to advise me to get gas in Biloxi and I passed on this advice to another friend driving in the same day. Resources were scarce on Friday in the city, so knowing I would have a mostly full tank of gas was reassuring. I also had plenty of water- both still and sparkling- and I had set my Nest to cool down the house as I approached. Little did I know what I would find at home.
As I left interstate and made my short trek through the city to home, I was relieved to see only a few branches down, the trees stripped of leaves as if it were December. I made the drive into the city only a few weeks after Hurricane Katrina and the difference was night and day. My sense of relief kept leaking from my face, though the heaving sobs had tapered off to that soft weeping of gratitude. All the bucket trucks and NOPD out taking care of traffic and keeping the city safe were lovely to see. I know all those workers and police officers had to be exceptionally hot, though the city had somewhat cooled after the storm and the humidity of August had slacked off. I turned onto my street moments later and went slow, as lots of folks were walking about and there were/ are still downed power lines. I pulled into my driveway and decided to go inside first to assess before unloading Satchmo and River.
And I found my French door wide open, covered by my silk curtains.
I had received a security notification on Sunday as the storm was reaching its pinnacle in New Orleans and talked with my security company but assumed it was a sensor malfunction. I knew NOPD couldn’t and wouldn’t respond for something non-life threatening at the time, so I convinced myself everything was fine. It actually was. Though the door was blown open despite my security measures, there were a few leaves on the floor and my curtain could use a good dry-cleaning, but otherwise, everything was fine. Nothing was damaged. No one had found their way into my home either, though everything of worth went with me when I evacuated. I have since upgraded security on those doors and there should be no repeat of this freak accident. I can’t wait to see my Entergy bill next month, since I had spent a good 9 hours cooling the outdoors.
The house had a slightly sour smell due to the fridge and freezer being without power, but both had cooled enough to make disposing of the food not too awful. I still haven’t finished with the deep freezer because trash hasn’t been picked up and my main trash can is full to overflowing with rotten food. Only a handful of items were salvageable- like my homemade limoncello- but again, I keep a stocked pantry so I was able to replace my soy sauce, gochujang, and olives immediately. These are important things in my home. I’ll have another big batch of kimchi cucumbers made up in the next few days.
And that’s really it.
I had a friend stay with me two nights until she got power back at her home in Holy Cross. I’d taken in friends after Hurricane Ivan in Florida too. Until my friend’s house had power, we sat, drank, and comforted each other, pausing to wonder at the joy of being home again. A meme was floating around that said something along the lines of, “Find you someone who loves you the way New Orleanians love New Orleans.” Truer words were never typed before. I never understand when people move away, despite the hurricanes, humidity, and mosquitoes. I love that I have people in my life, like my friend, who also look at this city as one would look upon their most beloved. Because she is to us. She is our beloved and that feeling is shared by so many.
It’s good to be home. Cleaning and restoring order are ongoing. We haven’t even hit peak hurricane season yet. Please keep SE Louisiana in your thoughts and if you are able to donate to mutual aid funds and local charities, please do. Mosquito Supper Club has been posting updates for those who want to help Cocodrie, who was harder hit. Grand Isle is 100% uninhabitable. All structures there are considered a complete loss. Shrimpers, crabbers, and fisherman are hardest hit. We need media and government to continue talking about recovery and keeping supplies and funds flowing to SE Louisiana and not just New Orleans. We also need the tropics to cool off fast and prevent more major storms.