Silence is Golden

Thanks to the Red Cross and FEMA I spent the night last night in a Quality Inn motel room at the edge of town in Petaluma. It was exactly a month to the day when I sat in Hattiesburg listening to TV reports on the radio and hoping for the best in New Orleans. Since then, I have been on the road with absolutely no clear direction and almost never alone. My thinking has been completely jumbled and every time I think I have a shot at figuring something out I lose track of my thoughts, I lose direction and I wind up sinking down in confusion.

Walking into the motel last night was such an incredible relief that it is nearly impossible to describe. The people at the Red Cross, especially my case worker, Betty Butler (who happens to have the same name as my mother) were soft and kind and understanding and genuinely helpful. Their demeanor alone went a long way to ease the indescribable confusion in my head. Later, on the phone, I was given the same understanding and kindness when I called to take them up on their offer of a motel room.

When I arrived at the Quality Inn, the desk manager, Jim, was helpful and understanding despite the fact that my California driver's license with its Petaluma address (for a house that is no longer mine) was thoroughly confusing. I explained all the things that anyone who has been reading this weblog already knows, fearing in the back of my mind that I might not be trusted and that I would be turned away. Instead I was accepted and treated with genuine kindness and compassion. On the Quality Inn website there's a page of information on the things that different folks around the country are doing for evacuees. There's some good stuff going on out there, but I'd like to add my thanks for my experience here in Petaluma to the list of kudos.

Entering my room I let out a huge sigh of relief and sank into the soft bed. It was then, for the first time in weeks, that I felt like my brain could open up and I might be able to figure this whole thing out. The room is quiet and I can meditate without the fear of chiggers. The motel even has, what has become the Holy Grail of my travels, WiFi, so I can get back to managing the New Orleans evacuee connection emails with greater ease, efficiency and accuracy. The room is actually quiet and sane enough that I might even be able to record some new Blues Routes episodes and begin to feel like I have a purpose again.

I am profoundly grateful to EVERYONE who has been kind to me on this month long journey, but right now I am most grateful to these strangers in my old home town.

I remain one of the truly lucky ones and I am fully aware of that fact.