Our Home, Louisiana...

Special thanks to the talented Jep Epstein for articulating what all of us felt, but none of us could articulate, five years ago.

Anais Nin once said, "The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." Mr. Epstein did that, seemingly effortlessly, for the citizens of Louisiana with this most beautiful song...

Five years ago, the much anticipated Hurricane Katrina came ashore, and at the time, none of us could have predicted the destruction that little bitch would leave behind.

And, I remember...

I was at Outback with a group of friends, about to go meet my children for a Bowling for Soup concert at the Riverfront Center here at home.

I was newly separated; quite intrigued with a man I should have never even tangled with, and more worried about what was going on in my little corner of paradise than what was going on in the gulf.

Hurricanes...

Yeah, we'd had 'em.

But usually when they got this far inland, they were little more than bad thunderstorms with a chance of tornadoes...

We'd lived with it all our lives...

No big deal.

New Orleans would live...

It always did.

The world worried and waited, and we just lived on, waiting for tomorrow.

Although I wasn't worried, I wasn't stupid, either...

I made arrangements for my children to stay with their father, and then I did what any woman separated from her husband would do at the hint of danger...

I went home.

To my husband.

His job as a catastrophe adjuster dictated we would stay glued to The Weather Channel from Sunday afternoon until the storm had passed to see where he would be working next...

None of us could have guessed that aftermath.

None. of. us.

I awoke on Monday morning to the sight of Matt Lauer standing in the middle of New Orleans, ankle deep in water, and thought, "What? The storm's been gone nearly 24 hours, and New Orleans made it. I don't get it."

I woke my husband up with a, "Get up. You're not gonna believe this."

For three days we watched as waters rose...

And people tried to flee...

Sending messages on rooftops, overpasses and by boat...

That people needed help.

Our people were dying...

Had died...

Our home was slipping away.

For that brief moment in time, two people who were worlds apart in their idiology and beliefs had to cling to one another, for at that time...

Nothing else made sense.

I remember dreaming of people walking in water at night as I tried to sleep...

I remember dreaming of people screaming at the sight of their loved ones slipping away...

I remember waking up to realize I was only dreaming what was going on in real life...

And, I remember the pain.

Oh, how I remember that pain.

Should you ever doubt what is important, just imagine it being ripped away.

Five years ago, my friends, I realized I was home.

The very place I had fought against was home...

And, there was no other place on earth I'd rather be.

Louisiana...

This is our home.

I Believe...

I'm a small town girl. You all know this, and I've never kept it a secret.

As much as I have fought this place, it is my home. I love it, and anyone that knows me, knows that I wouldn't have it any other way.

The fact that everyone here knows me and can talk against me are the exact comforts I find when I realize that I am here...

There is security in knowing everyone around you...

Enemy, friend...Whichever...

If you live in my town, I know you...

And I know who you are.

And I know in which category you belong.

In all actuality, and even though I try to present myself as if I'm above it, I feel sorry for those who aren't fortunate enough to have my life.

To me, life is beautiful...

My mistakes are mine...

My good choices are mine...

And, no one else can take credit for it.

The fact is this: I am happy here.

I never wanted it, and really thought my branches were stretching farther that my roots...

But at the end of the day...

My roots are embedded far more further than my branches will ever spread...

I love life simple.

I believe in hard work and friendship and family...

I believe that home is where your heart is.

And...

My heart is here.

You can find my heart in a little man in a wheelchair living in a nursing home less than a mile from where I grew up...

You can find my heart in a little old woman that complains too much, whines too much and fusses too much, but all the while, worrying about that little man in the wheelchair.

You can find my heart in a young adult girl who has decided, after all these years, to return to college...

You can find my heart in a young man that doesn't even know where he's going, but knows his future starts at the beginning of September.

You can find my heart in a man that lives, quite simply, just a few miles from here that believes in his daughters...his grandson...his job...and that something better's coming.

Yes, my friends, after all this time...

I believe.

Living Inside...

"Our fingerprints never fade from the lives we touch."

- From the movie "Remember Me"

This quote jumped off the television screen, planting itself in my brain, moving me to a higher level of self-examination. I searched in ernest for proper credit, and after finding none, realized this golden nugget must be the gift of a screen writer somewhere in this world that didn't, nor will they ever, get the recognition warranted for revealing, what I believed to be, the most important lesson any of us could learn in life.

The last couple weeks have found me taking a closer look inward, maybe even on a more intense level than ever before. Those of you who've been on this journey of self-discovery with me over the last five years will understand the magnitude of that statement.

This time...

It's different.

No more am I beating myself up for the choices I either made or failed to make...

I don't regret my life well-lived...

Nor the people I have loved...

Nor the ones I have let go.

No, friends, today, I am pleased with me.

I am where I need to be and doing the things I need to do.

There's a satisfaction in living life simple and being happy with where you are...

Struggling to understand, and one day, as if by magic, realizing that you've had the answers all along.

In one defining moment...

One look...

One tiny little look at someone across a room...

Looking at them looking at someone you love...

With whom they have no connection except that they are part of you...

When you realize that you are alright.

That the journey may have been long...

There may have been tears...

There may have been troubles...

But it all led you today.

And, today is perfect.

One look, and that fingerprint is there.

It could be taken away tomorrow...

But that print is there now, and will never fade.

It's living inside.