Torn..Grief or Relief?

This morning I received an early phone call from my daughter. She had news about my old house that had been gutted by fire a few months ago. It was being torn down as she gently spoke to me about it. I didn't know what to say or how to feel when I first heard her speak of it. Now..hours later.. thoughts of this home keep creeping back in.. among a thousand other thoughts. Perhaps this demise is not such a bad thing. Though I wrote mostly of good memories and musings on my previous blog, there were many days in that house I would just as soon erase as if they never existed. I am sad to admit this but truth is important when it comes to understanding and trying to slide into another person's shoes. If I had to live many of those bad days that happened over..I would change how I handled them..how I reacted. Perhaps the outcome of the lives affected would have been different. I will never know how much difference I could have made. I know now I did the best I could at the time. But wisdom and experience from time marching on has made me realize perhaps I could have made better choices. Perhaps my "sacrifices" were not of myself but of others I sought only to protect. Perhaps with the demise of this former home I can put to rest the haunting images and terrifying scenes that so often permeate my dreams. Perhaps the paralyzing fears that affect my waking life so often and so greatly will dissipate. I devoutedly hope so..I so desperately need to be forgiven. I need to forgive myself for the lack of insight, maturity and for letting fear rule my life. What I did and also what I didn't do in that house..was out of both fear and also...love. I know now fear is the worst excuse possible. As for love.... much as we want it to be..love isn't always enough..is it?

Katrina......

Katrina hits a mighty blow

and takes down bridges and houses low.

Fierce water and winds no compassion shown.

Everywhere hot and dark, we feel so all alone.

The old, the rich, the sick, and the new,

Everyone piled upon the spew.

Equally dealing her miseryClass doesn't matter,

There's nowhere to flee.

Where once was a road only sits a tree.

The water is full of blood, grime, and dead.

Who could have thought, who could have said?

The baser drive of greed and lust...

How long do we wait to get on that bus?

We were happy in our homes a few days ago.

Where we will live now, no one's to know.

We get in cars, we get in the boats.

We get in any kind of box that will float.

"Help us, help us!" is all we hear.

There's much more now than the boogey-man to fear.

"My kids are hungry my dad is so sick."

"Help us please, and make it quick".

Where is the Army? Where are the troops?

To stop the anarchy, and the men who loot?

The baser drive of greed and lust...

How long must we wait to get on that bus?

Darkness falls again and again.

The stench of death, is it my friend?

I think it's hell we've slipped into. A scream, a shot, we hear now and then.

Among the babies, their crying a din.

Thousands are missing, where could they be.

Afraid to search, afraid to see.

In the attics, and on the roof.

Hold on a limb, and pray for proof

That God is watching, and that He's not aloof.

Glazed stares and tears replaced the smiles.

Choppers and busses to take us for miles.

Only to find another hell to endure.

Where is my family; if I could only be sure.

~by Linda Tate Wilson

Oh God..please help these people...