Monday, September 26, 2005

Katrina III (Last One)

I hadn't heard from my son for a while. The phone lines were filled with people trying to locate their loved ones. Somtimes I was able to get through to my ex-wife's cell phone line but she never picked up. It would just go to her voicemail. I'd left her several messages and sent numerous text messages but I still got nothing. I was starting to worry, not for my son's safety though because I knew that he was safe with her, but because she wasn't answering any of my calls. Was she doing this on purpose?


A day or two later I get into an arguement with my newborn's mom and she starts talking about taking the baby to Seattle, and for me not to worry about the baby. Damn, at a time like this I'm being threatened to have my baby being taken from me. She was explaining that she was just tired of dealing with all this and wanted to be able to move on peacefully with her life. I told her that we were now bound together through this child, even though we no longer were together. She stayed silent.


When people would hear of my story from others, they listeners would tell me, "God is gonna bless you." They'd tell me this over and over again. Well, here I was, being blessed by God in this form. I'd felt abandoned by Him, even though I was still alive I didn't know what had been left of my house, what had been left of my car, where one of my sons was, and the other was being threatened to be taken from me. God was blessing me.


I listened to the radio and watched the news and all I heard, on top of how much the hurricane had destroyed numerous homes, was the amount of looting that was taking place on the Westbank, the metro area of New Orleans in which I lived. I heard about how businesses and houses were being broken into, looted, and destroyed. I was scared that I may not have a home to go to... God was going to bless me.


I decided that I needed to keep moving to keep my mind off my potential losses and the hectic past few days. I decided to volunteer at a shelter in Baton Rouge. After a friend wired money for me to buy supplies for the shelter, I went to Sam's Club to purchase diapers, water, and baby food for the shelter. There I ran into the head nurse from the New Orleans hospital. We hugged tightly, not believing we'd just run into each other. Her husband then walked up and shook my hand with a very firm grip and then gave me a hug. We spoke for a while and she told me that some of the nurses heard many of the cars in the parking garage being destroyed. Now I had good reason to believe my car had been demolished by looters... God was going to bless me.


I went to the shelter shortly after and witnessed the despair of those who'd lost everything. I distributed the supplies I'd bought and volunteered to give other needed supplies to the victims themselves. I handed them clothes, food, hygiene supplies, etc. I also walked around and spoke to the some children. As I walked, older evacuees... victims, would look at my shirt which read USMC and give me this nod of approval. Some would even voice it, "Marine Corps," and crack a smile at me. I felt a certain amount of pride come down on me because people were looking up to me, but it still wasn't enough to take away my concerns. I just had to keep moving. I kept moving because I was hoping that some of the good will would be returned to me when I needed it.


Eventually I got a call from my son's mom and I heard my baby boy's beautiful voice. I'd missed him so much. He'd been asking about me for days. It felt so good finally speaking to him. We spoke about everything under the son. I promised him I'd see him as soon as possible. I'd lost sleep most days wondering if he thought I'd abandoned him. I kept praying, wishing that he know, that he voice it to himself that his papi loved him, that he remember how often I'd told him that even in death I'd always be there for him. All he'd ever have to do is just look over his shoulder and I'd be there... even in death.


Eventually I was able to work something out with my ex-wife so he could stay with me for 3 days. I took him to see his baby brother in the hospital, played kick the bottle, and hugged him while telling him how much I loved him endlessly. My ex called telling me that she was going to Orlando, Florida with her boyfriend. There they could put him in school and find a place to stay because he had family there. I figured my son might as well go because I barely had a place to stay myself. I was staying with different friends and aquaintances and even in my aunt's truck. I couldn't provide anything for my son. The night before he was to leave we played kick the Sprite bottle again and I indulged in his laughter. I then sat down on the grass and held him as I told him he'd be moving for a little while and I didn't know when I'd see him again. I started to tear up as I told him because it killed me not knowing when I'd see him again. His eyes, unwantingly, started to tear also so he wiped my tears and told me, "Papi, don't cry. Don't cry, papi!" He didn't want to see his strong father figure break down, I understood that, so I held it in... and I cried as I held him while he slept. I didn't know when I was going to see my son again... God was going to bless me.


The following afternoon I met up with my ex and her boyfriend and we all went to Celebration Station to spend time with my son before they took him with them. I decided to take my digital camera so I could get a few last pictures of my son before he left. In that camera I had pics of my two sons and myself that I cherished because they'd come out so perfect. They were my visual memories of the last time the 3 of us had been together at the hospital. My camera, the insignificant device that held significant memories within was then stolen while my back was turned. I spent the rest of the time looking everywhere for the camera, hoping that somehow I'd get those pictures back. I looked for nothing though. The camera was gone. Despite all that I'd given to those less fortunate than me and after all my sacrifice on top of having lost so much, my pictured memories of my two sons had been stolen from me... God was going to bless me.


After I hugged my son goodbye and told him that I loved him, I put him in their car and shut the door. I heard his muffled voice loudly tell me, "BYE PAPI!!" and I saw his beautiful smile for the last time through tinted windows. I went to my truck and reflected on God's blessings. I felt cursed. I felt like I'd given too much; I have this theory that very often it's the good people who get it the worst in life. Well, here I was proving this theory true.


For the rest of the time, filled with uncertainty, I was eventually able to patch things up with my newborn's mom as far as us not feuding the way we'd done that day she threatened to take my son. She saw my point of view that we could still work together, even though we were no longer together, in raising our new son. At the same time, I agreed to lessen the arguements on my side. I've been able to talk to my son almost every day and I found out he'd be back next month. I'll be able to have both of my sons together very soon, where I can take new pictures of both of them together, while my baby is still young. I can make and photograph new memories. I was able to sneak into the closed off New Orleans Uptown and get my undamaged car from the parking garage. And I came home to a house that had only mild wind damage.


Now I've got electricity, clean water, food, and my newborn here at my house... my home. In less than a month my older son will be coming back home. Things are still uncertain because progress is a bit slow, with respect to a city that's still up and running and where people still live regular, routine lives but I'm at least returning to my regular life. Throughout the whole ordeal, I always understood that I had it better than many people, but the thought of not knowing the fate of my children was unbearable and it broke me. It still has my faith shaky... I still don't know if I can trust Him, even though things seem to be turning out okay. I don't know if things will stay okay because of everything that I've seen this past month... all this desolation. For now, I'm just grateful I'll have my family together again, my two baby boys.

[ TheSaga | 7:00 PM | ]