Five Years Ago

This time five years ago, Clark and I were glued to the television like everyone else. And like everyone else, we wanted to do something to help Katrina victims. We didn't hesitate to volunteer to go down to the Gulf Coast to help clean up with Frazer UMC a week after the storm hit. Because we had both attended Ole Miss, and Clark is a native Mississippian, we wanted to do our part.

But we had no idea. The TV did not do it justice. And I still can't believe what I saw. Because New Orleans was getting the bulk of the press, there were not very many people on the Mississippi Coast helping. I know. I was there.

We were housed on the floor of Vancleave UMC's Sunday School classes with outdoor showers (brrr), and I do not remember anyone complaining. That would have just been wrong.

The first house we were assigned to belonged to an elderly couple. The husband was at his son's house and his wife was sitting all alone in a lawn chair in their front yard sifting through what was left of her china tea cups. We couldn't understand how any of them survived, because not ten feet away lay what appeared to be someone's garage roof. There was also a torn up refrigerator, an air conditioning blade, lots of insulation soaked in salt water, and hundreds of pieces of people's belongings in the form of photographs, clothes, toys--you name it-- on her lawn. And the yard next to hers and the yard next to that one, and as far as you could see.

We were one block off the beach in Pascagoula, and there was nothing but big piles of people's lives from one end of the neighborhood to the other. Donned in boots and rubber gloves, we opened drawers filled with nasty ocean water and began to try to throw out even more stuff. It was daunting. The air inside the houses was still and hot and wretched. There was no where to begin and no where to stop. You had to take breaks and step out of the house --it was that bad. I had 5 feet of water in my own house for three days when the Pearl River flooded Jackson, MS in 1979, but that was not even close to the devastation on the coast.

The next day, we were assigned to another family a little further from the beach. They had family helping them rip out sheet rock and were in better shape. We cleaned their floors and the walls with bleach. The lady there was so appreciative of our help that she insisted I take a Christmas teapot from her house that I had admired. People were so genuinely grateful for the slightest measure of help, and they wanted to do something to show it even though they had nothing to give.

We went back about 3 weeks later on a chain saw mission. This particular family lived in a wooded area with trees down everywhere. Clark and Rudy Heintzelman cut, and I carried and stacked the wood. The father of the family was ill with cancer and the mother had just had a baby. You could not let these people see you cry. So appreciative, so proud, so not deserving of what was served up to them in the way life does.

We went back one more time to help with the clean-up and when I came home, my sister and I started a website for 3 schools and collected over 7,000 AR books for them. The picture above is of St. Martin Elementary, one of the schools we collected for. Katrina was a life changing event for so many people, including me. I just wish we treated each other like that on a daily basis. And I am reminded of it every Christmas when I get out that teapot.

Unforgettable

This week, just a short year ago, Milo was born to my sweet Leah. She called me in Alabama to tell me her water had broken, and I booked a flight to Austin that day. She and her husband, Paul, had arranged for the baby to be born at home with an extremely reputable midwife and her assistant. Uh, no hospital, no doctor, no epidural, no nothin.

I knew all of that going in, but on the plane ride over, I began to get nervous with all the "what ifs", and in the baby birthing arena, there are tons of those.

One of the things that I love about my girls is that they have their own ways of doing things, and I support and applaud them for that. After all, isn't that how they are supposed to be when they are grown up? But therein lies the problem. It is so ridiculously hard to realize that they really don't need you to weigh in on what they do, and how they do it. Now, I will have to say I was beyond thrilled that I was going to get to be a part of this home birth. (mostly to entertain Henry) But still, that Leah had asked me to come meant that I was included , and what mother wouldn't jump at that? I just wanted to arrive calm and collected and not ask too many questions ---just be the mom that she would want me to be. And I think I was. Well, mostly.

Katie, bless her heart, came over from Houston to be there for Leah, but as God would have it, she ended up being there for me. So when I even appeared to be weakening, worrying, and all prayed out, she would give me her look that only she can give. And I would snap to. After all, this was about Leah having her baby her way and not about me. As the time got nearer and the midwife came in and out of the room, I was so happy and excited for Leah--that she was able to carry out what she wanted for her birth experience. And..... relieved when I heard that first tiny yelp from her room signaling we could rush in. What a picture I have in my mind--Paul holding Leah, and Leah holding that fresh new miraculous life. Way to go, Leah. Unforgettable.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

I try not to look at you at all.

Lately, I have become sadly aware that I do not look like the 30 something that I still feel that I am inside. I'm continually surprised when a young mother or father will reply to me with a "yes ma'am" or "no ma'am". I have actually looked behind me when someone has addressed me like that. My insides just don't seem to match my outsides.

I think my daughters think I am seriously older-- not just in how I look but in the things I do or say or forget. When I visit them and ask for directions, I better pay close attention, because I get the "I already told you once" look or the "remember when you were here last time?" awkward moment before they tell me again. I mean, I have always had a major directional problem. nothing new there- But I know they think I'm losing it already...just a little.....right girls??

Passing by a mirror used to mean a quick check: hair, teeth, eye make-up, etc. Now I just keep going and hope I don't catch myself giving a swift glance. It's just too disappointing. I don't think of myself as ridiculously vain. It's just that it's a small surprise to see the wrinkles, the aging neck, and the thinning hair. The person staring back at me is someone I'm just not used to yet. It's like it happened overnight, too. One day, I was holding my own, the next---well, you get the image. Speaking of images, Emma Kate calls the wicked queen a "yucky lady". When she asked me recently why I have polka dots on my hands, I felt like one. You gotta be thick skinned to be a mimi.

It Feels Like School

and I'm not there. I'm packing for Memphis instead. It seems weird not to be experiencing the back to school excitement, and yes, teachers get that too, unless you are in an undesirable school, and then it is back to school dread. I have experienced both. But the last four years, I have loved getting up (even if it was 5:30 am) and going to work.

I really didn't intend to be a teacher--when I was at Ole Miss, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, and back in my day, my advisor didn't take time to discuss options like they do now. Teaching was my default vocation, because I really didn't know I could do anything I wanted to do. Girls were still on the cusp of going to college to find a husband, and I was a serious contender. bought it hook, line, and as I found out later.....sinker

I love kids--all kinds of kids--and that is a huge plus in teaching. You'd be surprised how many teachers really don't like kids, or they want to mash them into little quiet robots, which means stifling creativity. I tend to like the kids who are quirky, nerdy, and have something to say but won't say it...you know the ones--they sit at the back of the class and are minimally engaged. It's a challenge to me to get them going. I have to admit I don't like every single kid, but when I have changed my attitude about one I haven't liked---I'm talking I purposed to find something cool about that kid--over time I loved him. I guess you could do this outside the classroom with people too---well, maybe in some cases. But if I'm going to spend a lot of time with a child in my class, I should find a way to love that kid.

Anyway, I really miss teaching, and wonder if I will find something I love as much in Memphis.

HENRU

Before I brought Emma Kate back with me from Houston, I spent a week in Austin with my older daughter, Leah, and her two little boys. Leah's husband, Paul, was traveling to Colorado for the week, so I went to help out. Henry is 4 and Milo is 11 months, so we were quite busy. BUT somehow, I have the role of playmate in Henry's mind every time I go, so I am his partner in imagination.......and I do mean free thinking......We play for hours zapping bad guys with sticks, being rescued from the sewer via an ambulance or the police, and if we need more characters, he conjures up his imaginary friend, Henru to fill in where we need him. He orchestrates our plots, and we need to stay pretty close to his script. I sleep really well at Leah's , because I have been talking non stop, which is really not too much of a stretch for me, but in this case......... Playing with Henry is so different than putting on make-up with Katie's girls. love it.

Saying Goodbye

This goodbye was particularly hard for me because we are moving to Memphis from our little house in the woods in about 3 weeks. We found this house halfway completed when we moved to Montgomery about 5 years ago. The property is on about 2 acres in the Blue Ridge foothills north of Montgomery that used to be used as deer hunting property. We have resided with the wild critters you would expect in this type of setting, so it has been fun to sit on our screened porch and watch. I don't think Clark liked it as much as I did, but I really loved living out here. And what is so frustrating to us is that we have not been able to sell it! -- sign of the times I guess-- I dread going back to the city lights, noises, and locks. I never look over my shoulder unless it is at a bluebird. Emma Kate was the perfect little house guest---until her parents showed up with her little sister to take her home.

Eating our way East

Emma Kate and I managed to make it 11 hours in the car yesterday in our marathon drive from Houston to Montgomery. I think she handled it better than I did. We did eat more than our share of junk......gummy bears, animal crackers, juice, bunny crackers, and cereal bars---all organic, of course. I wasn't about to let on that there are much better versions of every single one of those--I mean, if you're gonna eat crap, you might as well eat the real thing. But I'm just the Mimi and I ate what her mommy packed for us. But I have to say the gluten free, wheat free animal crackers were hard to get down with a straight face.

Here's Emma Kate a few days before we left. There just weren't a whole lot of photo opps on I 10.

I am married to a genuinely nice guy. He was my first date in college, and we married 32 years later. Slight detour

My First Post

I am smack in the middle of wearing my grandmother hat right now. I have spent a week visiting with each of my two daughters and their kids. And I have two days to go. But it ain't over yet. I'm taking one of them back with me.