My Story, If you care about me.... read it
I do not know where to start... to start to tell this story of mine
I was raised a small boy, on the banks of the mississippi river in a small town named Chalmette. I lived there for many many years, and the faces were all familiar. I couldn't go to any kind of store without seeing somebody that I either went to school with or a family friend.
For 18 years this was the place I slept every night and ate every meal. My mother raised my 4 siblings and myself in this town, and although she had many hardships, she always made sure that we had full stomachs after every meal. My Mother sacrificed much for us.
I remember many meals where my mother would sit and wait till we all finished eating before she would even fix a plate for herself. I never fully appreciated everything that she did for us until I was much older, but I do now, and forever will I love her.
My mother is my strength. When I have a problem, or when I feel down, or when I just Need to be around someone, my mother is always there for me. She helps me see the right things to do, and helps me see what I Must do, even when it isn't easy. I can see that she lives through her children. She laughs with our successes and sobs with our failures. Every time that she sees us smile, I can tell in her mind that she is smiling with us, truly happy and smiling no matter what else may be going on in our lives, she can truly be happy when we are happy.
When I turned 19 I was single. I was a young man who believed himself to be called to the priesthood. Through much soul searching I realized that I was not destined for this life, but rather one filled with my own children, and since that point I have dedicated myself to making my children's lives better than my own. I had no idea of what was to befall the town of Chalmette, and all of my childhood memories.
That May I met a girl. Her name was Amy, and immediately we hit it off. I loved that she was so intro-outrospective, and honestly that was enough for me. I was never very picky, I just wanted so badly to be in love, that I found beauty in any faults she had. This allowed me to fall in love with her, but sadly, over time we began to grow apart as many do, and this is what she is, a paragraph in my story. One where the thoughts jump all around and I am not sure what to think. I still care about her, but it is in a much more friends only way. Maybe one day I can be one of her best friends again.... maybe.
Back to Chalmette
I spent many nights driving around, just admiring the town, what little it had to offer outsiders, and for that matter residents, was unknown to me. I had no idea how I could miss a place so much. I had no idea how I could cry at the mere thought of all of my friends spread out all over the united states, how I miss them.
In late August Hurricane Katrina ravaged St. Bernard Parish, along with many many other areas. Many people died, trapped in their houses, and many others lost homes and schools and businesses. Almost all who survived were put into a predicament: put all of their remaining money into a place that may become an economical pit, or move away.... and many... many of the people who once called it home, moved away. The city for months was full of outsiders coming in to gut and repair houses, and business people trying to get back on their feet. These people put their entire lives into this place, and in less than a day, it ceased to exist. My home... and everything I've ever called home... is gone. I made the realization a few weeks ago.
I have only this substitute of a home to returm to now....
This is not some plea for sympathy, cause God knows I don't need it, but this is just a journal. I haven't written the reason I have been depressed for the last year on paper, but this is it. I miss my home. Does that make me weak I ask you? Does that make me a pansie?
Does missing my father Grandfather Stepmother, Grandmother, Baby Brother, Godfather, and Aunt, Baby cousin... and mostly my puppy.... They all moved to Texas.... does that make me weak? I love them all, and I miss them greatly. I only wish I could see them now. But now I am working on a career, and I
need to wait to see them. What if one gets sick tomorrow... what will I do then? Will I cry... will I go see them? What will I do? I hate that I cannot wipe away the salty liquid draining down my face..... and I hate that I care so much.
I have lost my direction........
I was raised a small boy, on the banks of the mississippi river in a small town named Chalmette. I lived there for many many years, and the faces were all familiar. I couldn't go to any kind of store without seeing somebody that I either went to school with or a family friend.
For 18 years this was the place I slept every night and ate every meal. My mother raised my 4 siblings and myself in this town, and although she had many hardships, she always made sure that we had full stomachs after every meal. My Mother sacrificed much for us.
I remember many meals where my mother would sit and wait till we all finished eating before she would even fix a plate for herself. I never fully appreciated everything that she did for us until I was much older, but I do now, and forever will I love her.
My mother is my strength. When I have a problem, or when I feel down, or when I just Need to be around someone, my mother is always there for me. She helps me see the right things to do, and helps me see what I Must do, even when it isn't easy. I can see that she lives through her children. She laughs with our successes and sobs with our failures. Every time that she sees us smile, I can tell in her mind that she is smiling with us, truly happy and smiling no matter what else may be going on in our lives, she can truly be happy when we are happy.
When I turned 19 I was single. I was a young man who believed himself to be called to the priesthood. Through much soul searching I realized that I was not destined for this life, but rather one filled with my own children, and since that point I have dedicated myself to making my children's lives better than my own. I had no idea of what was to befall the town of Chalmette, and all of my childhood memories.
That May I met a girl. Her name was Amy, and immediately we hit it off. I loved that she was so intro-outrospective, and honestly that was enough for me. I was never very picky, I just wanted so badly to be in love, that I found beauty in any faults she had. This allowed me to fall in love with her, but sadly, over time we began to grow apart as many do, and this is what she is, a paragraph in my story. One where the thoughts jump all around and I am not sure what to think. I still care about her, but it is in a much more friends only way. Maybe one day I can be one of her best friends again.... maybe.
Back to Chalmette
I spent many nights driving around, just admiring the town, what little it had to offer outsiders, and for that matter residents, was unknown to me. I had no idea how I could miss a place so much. I had no idea how I could cry at the mere thought of all of my friends spread out all over the united states, how I miss them.
In late August Hurricane Katrina ravaged St. Bernard Parish, along with many many other areas. Many people died, trapped in their houses, and many others lost homes and schools and businesses. Almost all who survived were put into a predicament: put all of their remaining money into a place that may become an economical pit, or move away.... and many... many of the people who once called it home, moved away. The city for months was full of outsiders coming in to gut and repair houses, and business people trying to get back on their feet. These people put their entire lives into this place, and in less than a day, it ceased to exist. My home... and everything I've ever called home... is gone. I made the realization a few weeks ago.
I have only this substitute of a home to returm to now....
This is not some plea for sympathy, cause God knows I don't need it, but this is just a journal. I haven't written the reason I have been depressed for the last year on paper, but this is it. I miss my home. Does that make me weak I ask you? Does that make me a pansie?
Does missing my father Grandfather Stepmother, Grandmother, Baby Brother, Godfather, and Aunt, Baby cousin... and mostly my puppy.... They all moved to Texas.... does that make me weak? I love them all, and I miss them greatly. I only wish I could see them now. But now I am working on a career, and I
need to wait to see them. What if one gets sick tomorrow... what will I do then? Will I cry... will I go see them? What will I do? I hate that I cannot wipe away the salty liquid draining down my face..... and I hate that I care so much.
I have lost my direction........