Hurricane

 I moved to New Orleans almost one year to the day after Hurricane Katrina hit.  Everyone thought I was crazy for accepting a graduate school offer in a broken and chaotic city.  But I took a leap of faith.  And in that broken and dirty city, I met like-minded people from all over the world.  I discovered my true self.  I lived the charmed life of a graduate student.  The motto of our department (Latin American Studies) was "Work hard.  Play harder."  New Orleans is a fun city.  Even in it's brokenness, even with the waterlines still visible on every house and neighbors still distrustful of each other after rioting and violence; even with the empty neighborhoods and the ugly classism and racism Katrina highlighted, it is a city full of life and vibrance. 

The Hurricane destroyed a lot, but not everything.  I arrived in the aftermath, but life went on anyways.  My life in New Orleans was all about fun and enriching myself, while everyone else in the real world outside of the academic bubble was focused on rebuilding and restoring faith. 

A few weeks ago I heard a song with the lyric:  Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree. Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.  (It's a religious song).   It stuck in my head.  Love's like a hurricane?  Isn't that too violent?  Isn't love supposed to be butterflies and hearts?  But I really like it. 

Kayla's love was like a hurricane--it was strong.  She blew through my life faster than I wanted, and left me broken and chaotic.  The world went on and I was left with the aftermath.  I am still rebuilding.  The hurricane metaphor is easy for me to understand.  But me as a tree?  I like that too.  As much as I wish I didn't have to be strong, I have found an inner strength that surprises me.  I am still standing, and even beginning to thrive again (sometimes).  My daughter's death didn't kill me, and it didn't destroy everything good in my life. 

When my life seems too boring, or too hard, or not exciting enough, I always think back to my  time in New Orleans.  Hurricane Katrina devastated the city but because of her I was able to go to grad school (good scholarships to try to draw people there), where I flourished, found myself and met my husband.  Maybe I should name my next girl Katrina! (just kidding!)  So, where will I be a year after the "hurricane" of Kayla's life and death?  Maybe I will be flourishing and finding the new me, and I'll be ok. 

(Sorry if this post is too cheesy, I just wanted to explore the hurricane metaphor a little!)