Wake me up when September ends, please!

Who would have known that Green Day song would have such poignant meaning, again, 3 years later.

Gustav, Ike, trees down, in-laws in crisis, week long evacuation to Mobile, no power, some power, flickering power, and we now own a chain saw (very cool in Seamus' world).

The day we evacuated for Gustav I cried, a lot. It was Dejavu from Katrina, but with some twists.. a whole new set of "for insurance purposes" pictures to take of a different house. A whole new set of traveling and packing circumstances with 2 kids under 3-- last time I was pregnant for Seamus , and we had a beagle. (Wow, how much changes in 3 years!)

Please don't let my city wash away, God.
Don't forget the wedding pictures.
Throw out everything in the fridge and freezer.
Take enough clothes to last 2 months.
Don't forget the computer, and all the insurance policies.
Please, God, this is my home. The only place I have ever known that fits me. I don't want to be from somewhere else.

Please let the Natchez get to safety.
Please keep my Daddy strong and brave and give him hope. How much more can he take?
How much more can we take?
How much more can everyone here in fragile Post-K New Orleans take?

Driving off, again, with throngs of other weary New Orleanians, all with their most valued possessions, memories, and loved ones in the car. Pangs of fear in the very pit of my stomach as we are told "this is the mother of all storms", and thinking "if this is the mother, what the hell was Katrina?"

Please, God, let us come home. Please keep our city safe.

I would like to think that this is what did it. This message, displayed on our driveway, carefully colored with the assistance of Seamus and Kiernan, as we packed up to leave for Mobile. I felt so helpless and didn't know what else to do (and I was trying to keep them both entertained!)

GO AWAY GUSTAV! GOD BLESS THIS HOUSE AND GOD BLESS NOLA!

I am sure all the prayers helped as well. Non-believers would say it was just luck or weather patterns. But for me, that simple chalk message was enough, and it gave me hope as we drove away, having no idea what lay ahead, or what we would find when we returned.

It makes me smile now, and convinces me that September will end, both figuratively and literally, and New Orleans and her amazing, resilient folks will see a brighter day right around the corner.