Mackey, Jean's Husband died!!

Death is always a strange visitor in our life. Even though it comes often and usually unexpected, we never know how to greet its entrance into our lives. Recently, my childhood friend, Jean, husband died and as usual it was a shock. Jean and I meet in the ninth grade at St. Mary's Academy. We were friends throughout high school and than we attended college together at Xavier University and we both majored in English and became high school English teachers, We even taught at the same high school for many years. I even christened her daughter, Laura

Our journey have been similar in many aspects except, I divorced my husband after 12 years and four children and Jean was married for 43 years with five children. We both moved into the Lower ninth ward after getting married and settled into being mothers, wives and teachers.

Jean and Mackey were compatible and funny. They seem to fed off of each other subtle humor.
Jean would laugh about Mackey's hairbrian ideas and schemes and keep moving forward. Mackey was a good man , a good father, a good guy. How do you tell a friend " it's going to get better, cry as much as you want'. How do you tell a friend who has been with not just a husband , but a friend, a best friend for over forty years that you are so sorry. But what else can be said. The Grim Reaper will come for each of us one day. But I keep Jean and her family in my prayers and I dedicate  this poem to her. Being English teachers, we can appreciate Emily Dickinson view on death.

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school, where children strove At recess, in the ring; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. Or rather, he passed us; The dews grew quivering and chill, For only gossamer my gown, My tippet only tulle. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity

Even the Squirrels are different in New Orleans!

Even the squirrels are different.
New Orleans and its residents have gone through many changes since Hurricane Katrina.
I was outside watering my plants this morning. It was a beautiful morning with a sweet cool breeze in the air. The birds were out and the bees and the mosquito hawks, as we use to call them as children. I am minding my business taking care of my plants...watering, pulling weeds and who do I see looking in my face as I bend down, but a squirrel. Now I am looking at him and he is looking at me and I am wondering why he is not running from me. Usually a squirrel will run as soon as he sees a human or hear something move. I was looking like- " get the pluck out my face you little relative of the rat." but he moved a little, but not scare, but cautious- like I was going to move.

I was just looking like something is wrong with this picture. Finally he ran up the fence. But I tell you things are different since Hurricane Katrina when a squirrel tries to mark his ground. He has a partner and I call them Chip and Dale after the Disney characters, but when they start acting like Chip and Dale, it will be time for me to move or get a shotgun like Donald Duck!