Japan's pain

Many of you know I am a New Orleanian that stayed at home when Katrina hit. It was the dumbest thing my husband and I have ever done. When we finally evacuated, the Wednesday after the storm, we went to Dallas to stay with family.
My boss kept in touch and as soon as he was allowed back in Plaquemines Parish he made plans to reopen our law firm. I was back at my home on September 19 and was back at work on September 20. Katrina had hit less than a month before, August 29.
Even though we were very lucky with just roof damage over the garage, a six foot wooden fence that we witnessed fly away in the height of the storm and my beloved oak tree felled in half, those in the homes around us were not so lucky. Our little ranch was surrounded by two story homes, all of which lost their roofs and had extensive damage inside due to the heavy rains. Their loss is part of what saved our home. The waters rose around us but did not make it into our home.
It didn't seem to matter if we had a physical loss or not because we did have the huge loss of our way of life. No restaurants were open. I had to stand on line to get into the area WalMart with National Guard members in full regalia with arms at the ready watching over the lines. It was madness or as was often described as surreal.
At work we had to eat Red Cross lunches because there was no way to store or cook our lunches and keep them from spoiling before lunchtime. There is just so much peanut butter and jelly a body can consume.
We numbly tried to take on a persona of normalcy. It was impossible. Loss was everywhere. Each day on my way to work I would pass the burning fields, acres and acres of rubble being burned. The rubble had been homes a month earlier. Everyone in the office had horrible respiratory problems from breathing the nocuous fumes that encased the city. Spoiled refrigerators lines the streets. The stench was unforgettable.
Every Sunday I would go to church and I would sit there as the quiet tears coursed down my face. The pain was unendurable. After a few weeks my minister and I talked about my unending flow of tears. He said at first he found it very disconcerting to be preaching away and look out and see my tear stained face. He said he thought about it for a long time. Eventually, he said he took comfort from my actions. He said he was happy that I felt comfortable enough to unburden myself in the heart of the congregation.
I was baffled as to why I cried each Sunday. I soldiered through the week. Did my job to the best of my ability under the circumstances. Put the pieces of my personal life back together. Many people did not return home and their loss was felt every day.
Day by day New Orleans healed a little but still my tears flowed every Sunday like clockwork. In the five years since Katrina my life has returned to a more even keel. I left New Orleans the first day of the hurricane season following Katrina. My husband Lee and I moved to Hot Springs Village. Lee had to return to New Orleans for one more season with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra. He returned to the Village as often as possible.
That year alone I worked on our house. I hid out like a hermit. I was healing inside. When Lee returned for good after retiring I finally returned to a life beyond my home. I have embraced Village life and enjoyed many friendships here.
Today while in church the tears were back again. My heart is breaking for the people of Japan for I know what they are going through. Some will never return to their homes. Some will return but life will never be the same again. Even when they have a home to return to the sense of loss is overwhelming.
Yes, search and rescue at this point is of utmost importance. Building back what was taken will take time. But, tomorrow, when we have more of a handle on the magnitude of the loss then the psychiatrists and psychologists and grief counselors should be with every citizen of Japan, one on one. The wounds inside will take the longest to heal and they are the ones we don't readily treat.
In the meantime, I will go to church on Sunday and sit quietly and cry for my losses, the City of New Orleans' losses and Japan's losses.