KATRINA AND THE FRENCHMAN:
A JOURNAL FROM THE STREET

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The ending.

 

March 18, 2011 - Going Home and Epilogue

Any morning after St. Patrick's Day comes far too early. Having to catch a flight does offer some incentive to haul ass. After three scans of the whole hotel room and bathroom, we picked up our bags and the Holiday Inn grabbed us a cab.

G's hot sauce was confiscated at the airport. You can't have that much liquid in a carry-on, and we had no luggage to check. That's what we get for travelling light? I still had the hotel room key in my pocket.

As the plane pulled away from the airport I heard a mother behind me point out to her daughter, “Look at all the big ships in the Mississippi!” It did look kind of cool. I reached down for my purse and by the time I got my camera out and turned it on... I missed the shot. This is what I caught:

I heard them say behind me, “Goodbye, Mississippi.”

I said, “Goodbye, New Orleans.” Words cannot convey how complete that goodbye really was.

 

Epilogue...

We'd stayed at G's Mom's with the kids for the night. It was a wonderful reunion. The boys bypassed the T-shirts and wanted the "real" presents. The plastic alligators were a hit. I'd lost at least three pounds and G lost even more than that. (Who LOSES weight in New Orleans??) We came home to Waterloo the next morning and G ran for a few groceries. Because I enjoyed it so much at the Green Goddess, he bought me a sample-sized bottle of sparkling wine.

That night after the kids went to bed, we sat and finally relaxed again. We shared the sparkling wine and about half way through I told G that I’m not sure I’ll want to go back to New Orleans. I mean, never say never, but what would we go back for now? We’ve done the tourist thing, the tragedy thing, and the healing thing. We’re not “just tourists” anymore and we’re not locals. It’s not home, it shouldn’t feel like home. And besides, there’s the rest of the whole world we still want to explore.

He was relieved I felt the same way. And then together, we said goodbye to New Orleans. That is the real end to our story.

I’d like to go back to complaining about trivial, mundane things again, because that means that everything else is okay. But I can’t yet, G’s cousin just got his family out of Sendai, Japan.