Postscripts From The Catholic Spitfire Grill

With uncharacteristic brevity, Karl Marx had this to say for his last words. “Go on, get out - last words are for fools who haven’t said enough.” Having read hundred of pages of his writing when I studied communist political thought in college, I couldn’t agree more. He’d already said enough. But sometimes, last words are a gift that God allows as last blessing and Michaels Dubruiel’s last column most certainly falls into that category. In his last column, Michael weaves together an unlikely combination of the wisdom of Father Groeschel, the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, and an antidote to “The Big Lie.” He concludes:

What is the opposite of the “big lie”? Trust.

When questioned by an English journalist about the future of the Religious Order that he co-founded, Father Benedict gave a simple reply, “We have no plans, except to be led by God.”

None of us knows what the future holds, but hopefully we can embrace what is inscribed in our coinage, “In God we Trust.”

May perpetual light shine upon him. His voice will be sorely missed. Please read the rest of his last column here. And buy his books and not just because the royalites will help his children go to college. They’re good.  

First. If while you are facing the possibility of “losing it all” you find yourself with consoling thoughts along the lines of “Well at least I will get to replace that bathroom wallpaper that I have hated for the last 14 years.” You are not truly facing the possibility of “losing it all.” I am grateful for a very strong and supportive safety net. I am grateful for flood insurance that I didn’t need. I am grateful for a responsive and reliable homeowners insurance provider. I am grateful that my husband is employed in a sector of the economy that would not leave us jobless in the event of a widespread disaster. I am especially grateful for family and friends that called even as I was packing up the house to evacuate to assure us that we could stay with them for however long it took to re-build. I am grateful for friends that let me inconvenience them by staying in their home. I am grateful for friends that are willing to fight each other for the privilege of letting me inconvenience them. I am truly blessed and at most, I was facing a serious inconvenience and never “losing it all.”

I have learned a great deal about hurricane preparation. Formerly, I did not take hurricane preparedness terribly seriously not because I didn’t think it couldn’t happen to us, but rather because I was always of the opinion that 1. I would be nowhere NEAR my home in the event a hurricane took aim. 2. I had no intention of going BACK to a home until essential services were restored in the event a hurricane did hit my area. I have learned that last assumption is a load of stinky meadow muffins. Within hours of Ike clearing my area, I was hitting the internet looking for news and thinking very dark unChristian thoughts about mayors who set up blockades that prevented me from returning. I did not CARE that there was no power. I did not CARE that there were trees down and branches down and pissed off gators in the area. I wanted home and I wanted home ten minutes ago. Fortunately, I routinely have a pantry stocked that could sustain us for a lengthy period of time without access to a grocery store or even a heat source for cooking. Nevertheless, I intend to be more intentionally prepared for the next time because I know I will come back as quickly as possible.

I have learned that it is not possible to keep a determined man away from his home with mere police cars parked across the road.

God bless FEMA. And the National Guard. And the Red Cross. And the ka-zillion tree cutters, and linesmen, and other disaster response teams that showed up within hours to put this city back on its feet. I know that you heard some whining on the news. That is not the general sentiment on the ground here. We are grateful. Sure, we might be a little on edge from evacuating with three kids, three cats, a dog and two birds. (Well at least I didn’t have the dog and two birds.) And cranky because there is two feet of mud on our living room floor. And irritated because we haven’t seen electric power in a long time. We are still grateful. Thank you. If I knew the names and addresses of the crew that turned my electric power back on, you’d be getting Christmas gifts from me forever.

I have learned that if you need a only bag of ice and you go through the FEMA line and they also have MRE’s and water to distribute too, it is not possible to stop them from giving you MRE’s and water as well and they will be sorry that they can’t give you more. So, we have a souvenir box of MRE’s. We’ll add a few extra dollars on our tax return this year in penance.

One of the biggest surprises is how much destruction there isn’t. Yes, it’s darned inconvenient when 90% of the city is without power and frankly if the oak tree is on your dining room table then the destruction is very real in your life. But pictures of Galveston, Seabrook, and Kemah aside and except for a plethora of tree branches down, things look astonishingly normal.

It’s amazing how your definition of “minor damage” gets recaliberated when 100 yards away from you, they are shoveling out the contents of their home.

I have good neighbors. We may not be the sort that talk to each other every day, or even every week, but when the chips are down they will go buy a chainsaw and share. Both the saw and their labor.

The people across the street from our church have credited the church with protecting their homes (the large building blocked the winds some) I like that image.

Hurricanes are funny. With apologies to those who actually have boats washed up in their yards or between homes, it still cracks me up to see it. Beyond that, hurricanes are incredibly unpredictable. At one of the local area plants, one old structure is roped off because they are afraid that it might fall down on its own. Guess what’s still standing after withstanding 100+ mph winds? And for the best hurricane signage? My award goes to a neighbor who has a sign atop his debris pile that reads “Landscaping by Ike.”

Hurricanes are heartbreaking. So many friends have lost so much. At church this morning, you could tell who had been hit the hardest. Normally well-dressed people who had nothing to wear but sweats and the only make-up they wore was fatigue.

Continue to pray for us, even after the news coverage stops. Life will return to normal quickly for many, but for many it will never be the same.

And finally, I nominate this guy as the Ike-affected area mascot. He just looks seriously pissed off to me….kind of like we all are. It’s no wonder Tina divorced Ike.

“I’m just a crazy, old hardhead,” said Wilkinson, while sitting on the front porch of his Fort Velasco Boulevard apartment today. “I didn’t say I had all my marbles.”

What did he do during the storm while sitting on his front porch?….yes seriously…..

Wilkinson said that he felt his home shaking badly in the fierce winds as he sat there drinking beer, but the gusts were so loud he couldn’t hear much else. “It was too much noise from the wind,” he said.

He was never scared, just entertained. He did not pray for help.

“I figure I put me in this position and God couldn’t get me out,” he said.

Though he came through unscathed, Wilkinson didn’t think others should follow his example.

“I don’t advise it unless you’re nuts,” he said.