Greetings. My apologies for the recent hiatus in my writing. None of the thoughts I would have shared with you have seemed necessary in the time since Hurricane Katrina hit. So I thought I would share some reflections and observations from my recent volunteer experiences and interactions with hurricane survivors.
I'm not a crier. Every once and a while at a bar mitzvah or wedding, but basically, I've rarely done it ever since the waterworks caused by Alex P. Keaton's departure for Wall Street on the show Family Ties. (That still gets me in reruns!) That's why the strength of my emotions these last days grabs my attention the way it does.
Volunteering at the Red Cross here, I have met so many families in need of help and healing. My heart has broken so many times over the last few days as I have observed the despair of evacuees and their battle with the barrage of unfairness the world has seemingly showered upon them. My heart has broken every time I have, in facilitating the relief process for the many, had to say no to a special request from an individual at a moment when he or she so badly needs to hear "yes" from someone.
While it sounds like it could be almost too much to handle, it is not. It is not because every time my heart breaks, it is quickly made whole again by the sight of volunteers doing all they can to help other people. My heart swells at the sight of those in despair exhibiting understanding with people and a process that are trying hard, but can't give them the immediate help they need and deserve. My heart fills when people love other people - reaching out, comforting, helping, reassuring - when they love despite hating the situation in which they find themselves.
What a mix of emotions! In the end, though, none of this is about how I feel. It's about human beings having what they need - food, shelter, security, a sense of purpose, and the love of others. It's about realizing the power we have to help, to understand, to be patient, to care, to build and to restore humanity's faith in goodness, and humanity's faith in humanity.
Finally, a hearty happy birthday to Karim! Karim is a brand-new 11 year old (he's not brand new, but the fact that he's 11 is, you see!) from New Orleans. I met him today at the Red Cross, where he was waiting in a long line for relief with his mother. I was very busy all day there, but I'm almost certain that the most important thing I did was create a birthday celebration for Karim in the midst of the relief-hungry crowd. I made a birthday card for him and got the people around his mother in line to sing to him when I brought him over. Kirstie Alley even brought over his cake! She was visiting to spread cheer(s). Got that? I just saw the birthday card on the tv news, which caught part of the celebration! Anyway, I think his mother was surprised anyone cared that it was his birthday, and I think the others who sang felt really good about celebrating life, even if just for a moment. Life is hard for every one of them, but it is not over. Turning from surviving to rebuilding to thriving will be a long, hard process, but it has begun.
Please help keep it going. Have a good night!
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5 comments:
Wow, I had no idea you could get spam on a blog...anyway, I just wanted to let you know that what you're doing is really, really great (not that I would have expected any less).
Zig, this is a great story, man. I don't really know what that ceramic vase comment is all about, but whoever posted it was dead on with their first two words. Keep writing. I really enjoy reading your stuff. And come to Los Angeles. We (by we, I mean me) miss you.
Thanks for the comments. I am, indeed, interested in ceramic vases. How did you know?
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As for the relief stories, it just feels good to help. This'll be going on a long time, though. Luckily, retirement has given me the freedom to help. What's the deal, Ben? Mandy doesn't miss me, too?
Hey Zig...
You're an interesting guy. You showered the Camp Livitup kids with love and laughter and now this blog.
You help me to see how apathetic I can become at times and challange me to get over myself.
mandy misses you too, man. i was just speaking in first person plural, as we southerners are known to sometimes do.
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