The Uninvited Guest

There’s been a lapse in posts. Now has not been a good time at home. When this happens, we attempt to focus our energies where they are needed. Sometimes the writing has to wait.

The trouble began while traveling in India in 2001-02. There was something wrong with Saum, my wife. During the holidays she wasn’t well. We both assumed she was sick, there are a number of strange foreign illnesses you can easily pick up there.

It cleared up in time for our magical journey to Gwalior and Jhansi. The magic being, for the first time in India, Saum and I traveled solo. We lavished in Indian luxury; spent time alone, reconnecting as only time away from everything on a vacation can bring.

I left for home, she stayed. Before either of us could prepare the real trouble started.

New Orleans Healing Center Grand Opening

Today is the grand opening of the New Orleans Healing Center on the corner of St. Claude and St. Roch in NOLA. While Hurricane Irene batters the east coast, the center is the culmination of the restoration of certain goods and services that were missing after another hurricane: Katrina.

For many it has been a labor of love getting it off the ground. There have been countless meetings, gatherings, planning and fundraising over the years to make it a reality. There has been outreach to communities surrounding the center to discover what services are needed in areas where much of the infrastructure was destroyed after Katrina. But it tries to do things a bit differently by aiming to achieve sustainability and healing to both immediate and long term needs.

New Orleans Healing Center

I’ve previously written about how in 2005, on our 10th wedding anniversary, Katrina went over us while we were vacationing in the Bahamas on the island of Eleuthera (Death Ahead, Detour Next Right, Oungan François and Let’s take the free ANW pillow and go). That experience set the stage for us to travel to New Orleans (NOLA) the next year and me attending a conference. The year after that in 2007 we started getting involved with New Orleans Healing Center, an idea to create a community center to promote healing and sustainability in an area that needs it. It’s not just a community center, but a collection of different business, ideas, a street university, food and other things promoting healing and needed services.

For years now, my wife has worked tirelessly, along with dedicated individuals in New Orleans as well as others to make a vision become a reality. We went to meetings, she worked daily. They started out as ideas, salon meetings, hard work and dedication. They worked to secure funding. They worked to make it sustainable. They worked hard.

Let’s take the free ANW pillow and go

I’ve been away for a while on a mission, a mission of taking care of the woman I love. Now I have a bunch of pent up things to say.

After all, we have a collection of those ANW pillows. I’m not even sure if they’re supposed to be free, but we have a collection of them. Maybe I should look into a recycling program.

I don’t mean to make light of the situation, after all this is serious business: surgery. I can’t imagine what it’s like. I had surgery, years ago: grade school, high school; broken bone stuff. The stuff that involves pins and wires. But I’ve never had surgery on my core, where all my muscles are, the stuff that supports my weight. I hope I never do.

Haunted by Ghosts

I’m not telling a ghost story, not that I don’t have them. It’s true that there were ghosts that frequented the rooms and halls of my college dormitory, but that will have to wait for another time.

There are times I feel haunted by ghosts. Not the kind that go clink in the night, the spirits of the departed, I have a working relationship with them. The ghosts I speak of are my own. They are not external entities, but internal to myself. This is about the ghosts that we carry around with us, the memories that haunt.

When I was growing up, times were different, our nation was different. I would hear jokes, often with racial epithets in them. As the world and I changed, I would grow more and more uncomfortable with what was being said, eventually telling people I didn’t want to hear the jokes. They were offensive. This is one of my ghosts.

Death Ahead, Detour Next Right

I should be dead right now.

This isn’t a suicide note. I’m rather happy to be alive at this moment.

In 2001, I was scheduled to provide an upgrade to a customer of mine in the World Trade Center during the week of September 11^th. Some piece of high tech security software that allows banks to wire funds internationally. The upgrade got cancelled the week before it was to take place. My wife was planning on going to New York with me. Since our plans had changed, we decided to take a mini-vacation. I was already planning on being out of town that week.

I’m not saying this puts me in a similar place of those who escaped, who descended and gotten out. I have no way of knowing how those people felt or feel today. I do however feel a kinship to those who for some odd reason or another had some circumstance that kept them away from work that day.