Indications of the phoenix


“The Hibernia Corp., Louisiana’s oldest bank, whose landmark building was once the city’s tallest, turned on its lights at sunset Wednesday. The bank is well-known for the colors that light up the building’s cupola during the holidays.”

As a child, I was always excited to see the lit cupola, usually on our way home from the Baha’i Center, downtown. Reading that it’s lit again makes me feel that my past was not washed away. Which I guess is how I’ve been feeling.

I was a little premature in thinking that my dreams of water had passed. But I think that last night dreams involved rebuilding as well. As Martha would say, a good thing. Of course, these days she’s also talking about making apple juice by straining mushed appled through a pillowcase, and making friends with women for their cinnamon, so maybe not the best person to quote.

My parents were able to go see the house today. Earlier this week, we were saved a broken door by a friend who drove by just as the search and rescue teams were coming through – he was able to tell them my parents had safely evacuated, and they did their spraypainting on the door and moved on, without having to break down the door to check for themselves. Thankfully, our second floor, which is actually our main living area, stayed dry – the floodwaters rose just to the top of our first floor. And our windows stayed intact. So most of my family’s belongings, including all of the photographs I’d been mourning the loss of, are fine. When will I learn not to assume the worst? At this point, I’m feeling more sad for my husband. Most of our stuff was stored downstairs, so he’s lost a lot of things, including some of sentimental value.


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