Going home to New Orleans

By Lisa Canape

HappyNews Citizen Journalist

"I'm going home at the end of the week," she stated purposively. Debbie made the same statement two weeks earlier. At that time, I had questioned her wisdom. My sister evacuated from Louisiana at the end of August, before Hurricane Katrina struck the Gulf Coast.

For the past three decades, she has called Louisiana her home. For over a month, she has been living in limbo and was growing restless waiting to return. The first time she told me of her plans to go back; I cautioned her about returning too soon. After all, there was no electricity or safe drinking water.

I questioned if she should even consider returning at all. I worried about the toxic sludge left on the ground, and of the quality of the air. I imagined the likelihood of whatever was not destroyed by the hurricane or the flood had certainly been looted by now. What would be left I asked despondently. Debbie thought of the full refrigerator she had left behind.

"There will be rotting hamburger and spoiled milk. I doubt anyone would have taken that!" she said. Imagine the stench of hamburger and milk enclosed in a refrigerator without electricity for six weeks.

"You can begin a fresh start anywhere you choose to go," I quipped wistfully. Debbie did notice that her bones were feeling better since she had arrived in Texas. We discussed the pros and cons of every locale as if planning a destination for a dream vacation. It was exhilarating to think of the endless possibilities. Debbie admitted that she had never been outside of Louisiana since moving there thirty years ago. The forced evacuation was her first "vacation", and she enjoyed what she saw in Texas.

She acknowledged the problems within her city, and wondered if her life would be better somewhere else. That was when she began to embrace all of what she had come to love of the place that she called home. New Orleans was where her life evolved from being a teenager to being an adult. It was where she had married and gave birth to her children. Home was where her life sprouted as an independent woman when she divorced and began her career. It was the place where her babies grew up to be young men.

After our conversation, I went for a walk along the parkway near my home. The cold, crisp air made the vibrantly colored leaves shimmer in a teasing dance, making a soft melody as the leaves touched each other gently. I watched my neighbors, an elderly couple, as they shuffled along slowly and cautiously down the path.

The husband gently guided his wife towards a bench to rest. They snuggled together closely while feeding the magpies. The man's hand shook as he reached into the crumpled cellophane bag for stale popcorn to throw out to the birds. The birds squawked as if to demand, "Feed me!" while another squawked, "Me first". The woman's eyes smiled with affection as she watched the birds feed ravenously at their offering. This was a ritual that provided the couple great pleasure.

Over the years, they had formed a symbiotic relationship and could not imagine being apart from one another. They had been together through many years of growth, reflection, through periods of sorrow, and of rejuvenation. They have nurtured and cared for each other throughout all of the seasons.

In contrast, I thought about the magazine covers displayed near the checkout stands at the grocery store. They are covered with photos of celebrity couples with dazzling toothy grins, in excitement of their newfound romance. New love is magnificent. It is the thrill of discovering, and of wishes yet to be fulfilled. It is intoxicating. Some people return to experience the "high" again and again, leaving the relationship as the sizzle begins to fizzle.

It is the love that develops through years of trials and tribulations that is most magical of all. It is a love that is cherishing without condition. I understood the pull for Debbie to return to New Orleans. She could not turn away from her home any more than anyone would turn away from their aging lover, a disabled child or a tarnished heirloom.

It is easy to love something that is perfect, it is more challenging to be able to love perfectly. Many people have courted New Orleans. Others have developed a seasoned love for the city and they will nourish it as best as they can. Ernest Hemmingway once said, "Life breaks everyone, but some people become stronger in the broken places." May the city of New Orleans rise up stronger than ever, and welcome its loved ones home.

This story was produced by Happynews Citizen Journalist, Lisa Canape. Canape is a licensed clinical social worker residing in Salt Lake City, Utah.

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