Monday, August 29, 2005

Stages Of Grief

Denial is the first of five Stages of Grief. I don't know when the other four of them are going to show up, but I've been having a killer tea party with Denial. He's a wildman after a couple of vodka tonics. Likes to hang out and get to know you.

They're not dead, I tell myself.

Sure they're not, buddy, he says.

They survived Camille, I tell myself.

Yeah they did, buddy, he says. Yeah they did.

Katrina's only Category Four. Camille was a 200MPH Category Five monster. They'll be fine, I tell myself.

Denial nods to me, slowly sipping his cocktail. Those guys are fine, buddy, you're just getting all worked up about nothing, he says.

I don't think I've said more than six words to anyone in the past hour. I just keep holding the children. I hug Liam, thinking about my brother, Jason, and my father, and my Grandfather.

They ain't dead, Denial tells me. The phone line is just down. And their cell phones are off. You know they gotta save their batteries.

I hug Meg, pressing her red red hair against my check as I kiss her. Mom and Grandma.

Come on, buddy, you know they're tough old birds. Grandma lived through the Great Depression. And your mother survived Disco, didn't she?

I think we ate lunch. I think Katrina's eye is upon us right now. The wind has nearly stopped. Aunt Judy didn't lose too many trees. We made it through. And my stomach is doing cartwheels up my spine. I'm gonna puke any minute now.

But they are not dead. They survived. I just have to get in touch with them. If I can not call, I'll drive down there. In the wake of the storm.

The sky isn't so dark, now. I could probably make it to them. If the roads aren't too bad.

They aren't dead, I tell myself.

I know, says Denial.
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