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Thursday, September 01, 2005


So the fact that my husband eventually remembered my birthday around noon, and as anticipated hastily pulled together a cake and got me an I-Pod (which I am not technologically advanced enough to I 30 or 65?) and in general was everything I married him for, seems to pale in importance to the situation in New Orleans.

I was watching the devastation of Katrina on the news. Words will not do it justice, to describe it for posterity is too difficult, and I am not nearly a good enough writer.

I saw a woman on the news who had lost her husband. She was my age, and she had lost him in the lawlessness that engulfed the city. She had watched him be beaten to death by a group of sick, criminal men. As she talked, I felt my heart break for her. I looked at my husband, sleeping beside me, arm draped over my stomach and face nuzzled to my side. He has been very sick for the past two days, and was finally in a peaceful sleep. I wanted to kiss him, hold him tight to me. But I didn't want to wake him. So I just watched him for a few minutes and said two prayers, one for the woman on the news so that she may find peace. And another in thanks to God for my blessings.

And then I slowly and quietly got up and went to the bathroom so my crying wouldn't wake him. Because even the thought of going thorugh what that woman is going through makes my heart break and panic set in. So I pray for everyone affected by the hurricane, I cry for all of them. Because there but for the grace of God, go I.