Friday, September 16, 2005

The days are long but they feel longer because every night I dream about the shelter. I'm running around, trying to move things and see people and solve problems. Sometimes I wake a little and realize it's all a dream and then I can relax, but it's only a couple of hours from morning anyway. It could be worse. Some of the clients are having real nightmares.

There was a woman at East Central with an adorable little baby with huge eyes and one tiny tooth in her lower gums. She was the kind of precious little sweet caramel baby that inspires people to threaten to steal her and eat her toes and other things that aren't meant to be nearly as disturbing as they sound. This child's mother was one of those having nightmares. She wakes up yelling for the police to help her.

Before I came here I saw so much "why didn't they get out, they had plenty of warning?" on some of the message boards I frequent. This woman says she didn't know about the storm until the Friday before. She said she watched the news, but all she saw was Natalee Holloway and such. She stayed, and ended up huddled on the top bunk in the back bedroom, praying for God to spare her child at least, while her husband waded through chest deep water in a futile attempt to move some of their possessions to higher shelves, until she finally told him, "We need you here with us." Her house, which was at the bottom of a hill, is gone now.

So that's what she dreams about. I had a dream that someone unloaded boxes and boxes of supplies right next to my bed. I knew I had to get up and help distribute them but I was just so tired I couldn't move. In the dream, other volunteers started working to move the boxes but I just lay still and pretended to be asleep. When I woke up I was deeply relieved that I hadn't really done that.

 

Post a comment:

Name:
Email:
URL:
A cow says:
Comment: (HTML is allowed)