Shaking it Off

It’s been over three months since Katrina came through here, the side of the eye giving us a beating that I know I’ll never forget. But still, three months is a long time. I feel like I should be over it all ready. It’s a done deal. Yesterday. We survived and others didn’t. There’re much worse things in the world. My family was really lucky. It’s almost a whole brand new year. I should shake it off and move on.

Enough all ready!

To be honest, I really thought I had shaken it off and moved on, some time ago in fact.

And yet…

I took my daughter to school this morning and was driving back home, just like any other day. I went by Burger King with it’s twisted sign, by the new restaurant they had almost ready to open before that is now having to have a new roof put on and all of the inside work redone, I drove on down by the show with the chunks missing from its front, by the help needed signs every where that promise bonuses because so many people have moved away they can’t find enough workers to operate the businesses for normal hours.

A little further and I found that once again one of the lights on the main road was broken, then I had to take a detour because they had one road blocked still trying to repair phone lines. A little further and another detour because they were picking up hunks of tree trunks.

About then my son called on his cell phone to let me know he had made it to college and I could hardly hear him. The service is still not working about half of the time because of damage to cell towers in the area.

I finally made into my neighborhood and drove over the short little bridge that used to be so scenic but is now only a mess of bare land and missing or broken trees. I passed all of the other damage; huge tree roots side up, roofs covered with blue tarps, a house with the porch smashed off, a house with the backside of it damaged enough that the family is living in a FEMA trailer in their front yard, and all of a sudden out of no where, my hands were sweating, my heart was racing, and I was almost in tears. It was all I could do to hold them back.

When I got home I sat in my driveway and got control of myself, reminded myself how lucky I was that my family was still together and that our home was damaged but standing strong. After a few moments I came in and did e-mail, took care of my on line groups, fixed a page on my website. {I thought about working on my book, but I’m just not back there yet.}

I had just gotten up to do dishes when my phone rang. I smiled when I glanced at the caller ID and recognized the number of one of my dear on line friends who lives about halfway across the US from me but feels like someone I know better than some of my neighbors.

We chit chatted a while, laughed a bit, she asked if I had sent out X-mas cards yet or put up decorations. (I have a habit of going overboard in both areas. I just love Christmas!) Normally.

I said, “Not yet.” Then changed the subject.

She wasn’t letting me off that easy. “Why not? You usually drive me damn near nuts with all of the details and pictures.”

“I really don’t have room in the house for a tree this year with everything still piled up, and I don’t have the time for all of the other stuff,” I said, then changed the subject again.

When I finished that subject she got quite for a moment and then said, “You know, Charlotte, it’d be perfectly normal if you just didn’t feel up to going all out for Christmas this year. If you were still a little at… odds… emotionally. You’ve had a tough year. Hell, you’ve had a tough couple of years.”

I thought about the last two years; my father’s illness, his death, my oldest leaving home, my own battle with finding out that I was a diabetic, a scare with my son’s health, then his wedding, and then--Katrina. I couldn’t say anything for a moment. Finally I said, “Such is life.” And I changed the subject again.

She wasn’t having it. She interrupted me this time. “In the last three weeks your e-mails and phone calls have gotten so damn sweet and fake you should have to put a trademark symbol on them, like sweetened with Splenda!” She added a little bit more too with a few other words I won’t type here.

Okay. Now I was getting angry. “What are you talking about?”

“Something’s wrong. I can read it between every sentence you write me. I hear it in your voice over the phone. You aren’t you.”

“I’m not me! Then who the hell am I?!”

“Some stupid character you’ve made up who smiles while her insides fall apart one piece at a time. What a load of bull shit! I really thought you were a smarter person than that!”

Oh, that was it. I lost it. I started crying and yelling, and raising enough heck to rattle the windows. I let her know just how angry I was that she would say that to me, and then some how I strayed into other anger, then sadness, then fear, then more anger. While I raged on, my friend didn’t say a word. I didn’t even notice until the end, when the silence made me think she had hung up sometime during my fit and I was too loud to notice.

After a moment of quite I asked, “You still there?”

She laughed. She actually laughed.

I didn’t have any anger left, so I didn’t say anything. All I managed was to sniffle a little and hiccup once.

She finally said, “Do you feel better?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been holding so much in, pretending things were all right--that you were all right--when it wasn’t true. I knew you had to be about ready to blow. I just lit the fuss.”

When my mother died a nurse told me that part of any kind of grief is anger. I don’t think I had really allowed myself that since my father’s death, and for sure not since Katrina. I felt--still feel--too lucky. Every time I get angry or feel sorry for myself I just end up feeling guilty for feeling that way. So many others ended up so much worse off than my family did. I feel like I have no right to feel anyway but lucky. I guess I just kind of used that as a reason to push my own anger and upset aside during the last few weeks. I ignored it, never really acknowledged it and got it out and over with so I could move on to the next step of healing.

My wonderful, dear, very wise friend made me give my anger a voice today.

We talked a good while longer after my outburst. By the time I hung up, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of me.

So I’m not completely over what happened and I still have bad days and private pity parties. She assured me that doesn’t make me a wimp, much less a selfish monster. It was such a relief to hear someone say that. To have someone tell me it was normal.

I’ve decided that it’s okay for me to feel sad when I drive around town and see all of the damage that is still there, even though it could be worse. It’s okay for me to still cry over the family pictures and keepsakes that the floodwater stole from me, even if others lost more. It’s okay for me to get mad about all of the hard work we put into this home that we are having to redo now, even though some people lost their whole home. The greater pain and loss of others doesn’t take away my right to deal with my own and work my way through what ever I feel, even if it takes me months more to completely get over it and move on. Some of us shake things off quicker than others, and that’s fine too.

Feeling what ever I feel right now is okay. Not writing right now is okay. This too will pass as long as I don’t build a damn and keep it all locked in. Maybe those are good things for all of us to remember when ever we are going through some rough patch in our lives.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt any to have a wonderful friend who knows how to blow up damns. Right Lori? (Smile)

Hurricane Season Over!

Yes, it’s a done deal! Hurricane fest 2005 has come to a close.

Everyone in the costal states exhaled a sign of relief today. For six months we won’t have to worry and watch the news, fearing that the weatherman will announce yet another system building somewhere out there that might head toward us. I’ve spent my whole life here in this same Louisiana town, and I’ve never before counted down the days to the end of a hurricane season or dreaded the start of the next, but this was a special year.

Here’s to hopping that next year won’t be special at all! Well, it would be okay for it to be special because there were no hurricanes. That would be just fine! (Smile)

Proofreading Your Own Work

I entered a writing contest a while back. It was a free contest held by a large on-line RWA chapter I belong to. (If it hadn’t been free with entry sent by e-mail, I probably wouldn’t have worried with it because of when the deadline date was and the things that were going on.) I did enter though, and in a rush, the day after I was finally able to move back home after Katrina, but still, I proofread the pages more than once before I hit send. What I didn’t do was have the time to ask anyone else to read over them for me, which would have been a really good thing. (Smile)

I got my results back this week. Gosh, the stuff I missed that the judges found! I will admit my nerves were a little frayed when I was getting those pages ready to send, and I only had a few hours to do it in, but still, I made some big slips that I should have spotted. Like using interred when I meant entered, on for own, ties for tires, and periods in a couple of places where there should have been question marks.

Those are some pretty big slips to over look in a manuscript that’s supposed to show your professionalism. Each mistake was something I knew better than to do and should have caught, but for some reason I didn't see them at all. I try to be careful even with blog entries and e-mail, but I’m not much on proofing them, but those aren’t going out to a contest, an agent, or an editor. I’ve always considered myself really careful when proofreading manuscripts that I’m getting ready to send anywhere.

The big mistakes I over looked just proved to me again how important critiques are, even if it’s just a read through done by a friend who isn’t a writer.

Your E-mail Message – Your Reputation

There are a lot of writer’s groups out there today, and many writers turn to them daily for support and encouragement from others who have walked the fire with them. Writing is often a lonely and trying profession, probably one of the few where you have to open yourself up to rejection over and over, often for years before you make that first real sale. After that first book is published, you open yourself up in a brand new way to even more people. Surrounding yourself with other writers, even on list, is like stepping into a warm embrace.

At least it should be.

But there are group members out there on any group who seem to take joy from stirring up trouble. If you say something is red, they say blue. Some like to feel superior, so no matter what you say, they know more than you do and no one’s answer but their own can be right. Others seem to thrive on negative energy. They will gladly point out your weaknesses and then take full advantage of them. Others will take insult to anything you say and send an attack missile in.

Ah, I see you are nodding your head. So, you’ve met Ms. ArgueWithAnyone, Ms. SmarterThanYou, and Ms. GiveUpWritingYouAreNotGoodEnough….as well as a few of their little friends.

Wait, before you nod too hard, are you ever guilty of the same things? Maybe without even meaning to or noticing that you are doing it. If ever in doubt, don’t take a chance, file that message away and read it over later before you hit send, or maybe just hit delete.

Why does it matter?

Because group members notice those troublemakers, even those who might do so often but blindly. Every time you send a message you are putting your reputation on the line. If you are a published author, or want to be one, when you send a message to a group you are speaking to your public. Writers are huge readers. I can’t name the number of times I’ve been contacted off list--I’m a group moderator--by members who are fed up with some certain other member’s posts. I get comments like, “I wouldn’t buy a book with her name on the cover if it was the last book in the store and I didn’t own a television or a radio!” I’m not overstating their feelings either. I’ve even heard worse with words I’m not going to add.

So before you forget that people can’t see a teasing smile in an e-mail message, or before you answer in haste or anger or even hurt…think it through. Think of how many people will see that message in that group. Think of how easy it is to forward that black and white print to others, privately, another group, a blog, or a website. Or even the fact that the group’s home page will save it for years for others to look at maybe at a much later date. Once you hurt someone or make them angry, they have a habit of remembering your name and what you said forever, and sharing their opinions of you.

It’s your call. You can send the kind of messages that will have people speaking well of you or you can show people a side of yourself that they might find really ugly.

What a Difference a Week Can Make

My husband Glen had a week’s vacation last week. For seven days we let the fur fly around here. (He’s much better at fur flying than I am, but don’t tell him I admitted that. Smile)

You wouldn’t think one week could make such a difference, but boy did it. The big oak tree that crushed our shed and just about every plant in our back yard, is all gone now. Well, there’s some huge hunks of it left back there, but it’s in hunks now….instead of one big tree. The crushed shed is gone, the limbs are gone, things are raked up and although a lot of the plants look worse for the wear, I know most of them will look better next year.

Inside, we finished moving things around and got a lot of the sheetrock tore out. We also got our new hot water heater in and it works great. We even have DirectTV now. We ordered it but they never showed up to install it. Fussing did nothing, so finally my husband, handsome jack-of-all-trades that he is, decided to give it a go and install it himself. He did it! So now we have channels again, lots of them. I can watch all kinds of things. (Smile) Our cable company says it is going to fix things here and come back, but I’m not so sure. I haven’t seen one of their trucks out fixing anything, and their office here is still shut down and boarded up.

We lost a number of businesses thanks to Katrina. Some were looted, some just threw in the towel, and some had already been on the edge, and such a long time of being shut down just gave them a final push. We lost a neat little corner Mexican place where we liked to grab a quick bite, our ACE Hardware, a gas station, and other places, including our theater, which was the only show we had here….it was also the only place for teens to even go out together at. It seems our local newspaper is hanging on, and is now delivering three times a week.

Sadly we have lost another person in town too. A man who worked with my husband died last week….doing the same thing my husband had to do….cleaning up a damaged tree from his yard. We have one huge oak left to saw up, but thankfully this one is flat on the ground instead of leaning against anything.

Hopefully the newest storm, Wilma, won’t have anything to help her get stronger and maybe she’ll fade away and then there won’t be any more to worry about this year.

Pictures of Bogalusa after Katrina

I put up a second picture page. The first page was filled with pictures of my home, yard and street after hurricane Katrina. The pictures on the second page are more after pictures, but these are from all over Bogalusa, Louisiana, the town I live in.

http://www.charlottedillon.com/Hurricane2.html

Things Could Always Be Worse

I’m a big believer in never saying that things can’t get worse, because they always can. I also have a habit of pulling myself out of feeling bad for myself about anything by simply taking a look around. Katrina was awful. The twelve hours or more than she pounded us was terrifying, the days afterwards, with the heat and the bugs and the worry over how long our food and water and meds would last was something I don’t want to ever go through again, but…

There’s always a but isn’t there. (Smile)

I still have only a few local channels, but I’ve caught some news and I have the MSN homepage. The two headlines there that caught my eye today were Thousands killed in Asia quake & Hundreds killed in Guatemala mudslide.

Like I said, Katrina was awful and thousands of people were injured or suffered, and probably by the time they get through with the counts, more than two thousand paid the highest price of all, the price of life. But… when you put two thousand up beside twenty, maybe thirty thousand, it puts things in a better perspective of just how very lucky the states that were hit by Katrina really were.

My city, Bogalusa, has a population of around fifteen thousand. That means everyone here could have died during Katrina and we still wouldn’t have reached the numbers from that earthquake alone. I can’t imagine being in the middle of that kind of death, where whole towns are gone, where maybe one single family member is left to stand alone without even a friend alive to turn to.

We got a really good taste of what it’s like not to have power, phone, running water, stores, police, even a hospital, but when it got too bad and we knew we couldn’t take any more, we were able to load up in my husband’s truck and drive away to help. It might have taken us a couple of days to cut a path to get that truck out, and maybe we had to drive hours away, but family was there waiting and we had the means to get there. Once there and near a phone, my on line sisters and others rushed to my aid. I received calls, cards, letters, even gift cards and money, to help me at least start to start over, to assure me I was cared for and held close with prayers, thoughts and warm light and love.

I had my husband, my children, even my pets, and we weren’t alone, not really, not for one single second. I wish it could be that way for everyone!

The Greatest Losses of All

It’s taken me a little while to write, or even mention very much about the things I lost that hurt the most. At first it was too painful to think about it in detail, and then I pulled something in my neck and back, trying to do too much around here, and have spent a number of days that mostly consisted of me in bed staring at nothing, waiting for the pain to go away, for my neck and back to heal enough for me to get back to work on the thousands of things I need to do.

There was other pain there too though, emotional pain. Too much time to think, to relive, to regret. Most of that pain came from a couple of boxes of belongings that the flood waters of Katrina took away from me. They weren’t things that money could replace, like my furniture, my appliances, my car, my shingles or my walls. Losing those things hurt, but they were things that money and time and work, can and will one day replace.

But there are things that no amount of money or time can replace.

There were two big boxes in my house that got over looked during the flooding. Lots of things did really, since we never expected the water and since it came during the worst fury of Katrina, surviving seemed more important than saving things. These two boxes were in another room, in the back at the bottom of a closet, dusty and forgotten. I had actually looked for some of the things in them for a long time, and couldn’t find them. Couldn’t remember to save the world what I had done with them.

As soon as I began to dig through those boxes, I remembered.

I was putting some new photo albums and scrapbooks together and I had located a lot of family photos and keepsakes that I wanted to include. I just didn’t have the time to do it, so I put them all away in those two boxes for safe keeping, for a later date, for a time when I had more time.

The story of my life.

If I had only known then what I know now. If I had only put them on a top shelf, or in the attic, or found them before when I was searching for those old family photos to go on my family site, if I had thought about them and moved them, or if I had… Well, if only and if had were magic, I guess they would help. But they are only words and what’s done is done.

I didn’t find those boxes until after we came back home, after Katrina was long gone. Nothing I had gone through or lost brought me to my knees, but the things in those boxes, as I looked through them and slowly realized what all was in them, and that nothing was left of it, that did bring me to my knees. I would have traded my whole house and everything else in it for what was in those two boxes, but hurricanes don’t make trades or deals and what is gone is gone.

Even now I can hardly bear to list the items that were in those boxes. I guess I’m doing it as a confession because I feel like somehow I failed the family members who have gone, the family members who are here, and even those who are yet to come.

In those cheap cardboard boxes were a number of years’ worth of pictures of my children and family, as well as other rare and precious, irreplaceable possessions. My kids’ baby books were in there, old black and white photos that no one else had of family members who died years before I was born, there were letters in there that my mother, a child bride, wrote to my father during World War II, letters he wrote back, the wedding vows my husband and I exchanged twenty-two years ago when we were young crazy teens who everyone said would never make it, in those boxes were clippings from my babies’ hair and the little hospital shirts they had on the day I removed them to dress them to come home, the signed guest books from my mother and father’s funerals, school pictures, keepsakes, odds and ends and many other things that make up the collection of a lifetime of special moments.

All of those things were nestled safely together, or so I thought, sitting and simply waiting for me to find the time to scan them into my computer, bind them into a scrap book, stick them into a photo album, or hand them down to my children.

All of those so dear scraps of paper and ink that was so easily destroyed by the rush of flood waters that filled my home on that awful morning, can never be brought back. They were in my safekeeping and I failed. And maybe that’s the hardest pain to take of all.

Some Pictures of Katrina

I took some pictures right after hurricane Katrina of my home and street and yard. I've put some of them up on my website, some of the ones I took with my digital camera.

If you want to have a look at them, you can find them here http://www.charlottedillon.com/hurricane.html

Little Things Mean A Lot

Less Debris - The city finally cleaned up some of the fallen trees from the side of my street yesterday. I didn’t have much in front of the house, but both sides of the street beside my house were filled with tree trunks and limbs. They didn’t do the whole street, but did both sides of half the street and a little more than half on the other side. It just looks so great not to see those tall wide piles of dead tree debris! We still have piles of stuff from inside our house out there on the other side of the street, like my living room furniture and my refrigerator, but I know day by day, street by street, pile by pile, things will get better.

Daily News - I got a newspaper yesterday. There was no paper for weeks, and then we started getting a “daily” newspaper twice a week, Wednesday and Sunday. Then yesterday suddenly there was a Friday newspaper. Maybe that means more days? Another step back into normal!

TV News - I have a couple of local channels I can watch on a real TV! (Local for us is New Orleans.) Until now we’ve gotten one channel out of Mississippi on our little snowy black and white portable TV. The cable company hasn’t even sent in workers here yet because there is so much damage. The word is that it will be six months to a year before we have cable TV again, and maybe even much longer. But now my husband has put an outdoor antenna up for us--the things we went through to get that darn antenna. The channels we get are out local ones, so we know what’s going on in Louisiana, like the weather, what’s being opened where and what’s still closed. We get one channel in clear, another a little snowy, and then five more that we mostly can’t get in good enough to watch, though a couple come in better at night, but it’s all local stuff! (Smile)

Back to School - Talking about things opening…my daughter’s high school will be opening up for classes Monday. The schools here still have damage and need a lot more work done, but the kids have already missed over a month of school, so it’s time they get back. As it is the school board will be taking away holidays, adding nearly an extra hour a day to classes, and extending the school year by at least a couple of weeks. Duke Power that has been down here helping had been sleeping at the high school, since they were there, they did a lot of work that they weren’t even asked to do. They also gave the school a check for five thousand dollars to help replace some of what was lost. The Pennsylvania National Guard that has been here helping out so much put in time working on things at the school too.

Help From Others - If any of you know someone in the Pennsylvania National Guard or someone from NC that works for Duke Power, or those who give or help with the Southern Baptist Convention Disaster Relief from Illinois, tell them how much their help meant to us down here. I don’t know what we would have done with them, and the help of so many others who came down here in these awful conditions and terrible heat and gave their time to smaller areas like ours that didn’t have the same press value as places like New Orleans. Just saying thanks seems like nothing at all compared to the help they gave us.