Walking Backwards

So, some may know that my husband is from Louisiana, that most of his family still live there. That we have friends in Louisiana. That we spent our honeymoon in the French quarter in New Orleans. Because of that we were increadibly thankful that not a single person we know was hurt. Our friends in Slidell are now without a livable home, but they are alive (and livid). Joe's grandparents are safe; they live in Lake Charles which was far enough away not to sustain any damage. The aunts and uncles made it okay, but they lived in areas far enough from the hurricane. Our family was so lucky. I can't watch the news, though. Every time I turn it on I start sobbing in sadness, anger, and frustration. There is nothing I can do. I can't stop the thousands of people that I see on television from suffering, from dying of dehydration while waiting to be rescued. I have no idea how to stop ten year-old girls from getting raped while in emergency shelters or how to keep infants from wasting away from exposure. I sent money. All that we could. Joe's company matched us 150%. I'm taking Nicholas to the shelter here today with clothes and water and toothpaste and shampoo. It's right down the street from my house. I pass by it and see the people sitting outside and cry for them. Joe wanted to go to New Orleans this weekend and do all that we could to help. I'm selfish, I said no. I'm not taking my three year-old to see that, to have to protect him from that. I hope that these people get the help they need soon and all the help they need to make their lives whole again after it's all over.