The last time I was in New Orleans was three years ago, which was a year before Katrina blew through town. It’s still the city I remember, filled with family I’ve missed. But it’s also gravely wounded.

I’m here in mourning, and my new journal is filled with eulogies. I visited a cousin who’s been rebuilding her house, and living in it at the same time. My uncle is in a trailer until his house is livable again.

We drove out to my Aunt’s beach house and stood on the empty lot overlooking the broken piers that were once the Bay St. Louis Yacht Club. My niece sifted through the ground, picking out buried Mardi Gras beads and pieces of plates and glasses from the house, like it was an archaeology dig.

I’m here for a funeral, and the optimist in me can’t help but think about new beginnings. The day we arrived, they opened the new bridge across the bay between Bay St. Louis and Pass Christian, Mississippi. For two years they’ve been ferrying passengers across the bridge, but today everything is connected again. Sparkly and new.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 18th, 2007 at 8:27 pm and is filed under US and Canada, sweetness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.