debutaunt.com

Pain

Zoe has a 26 year old half sister. She lives in Georgia now, but Zoe has spent time with her last year and some in New York this summer. Her sister's mother is Black. Their dad, my ex, is Italian. She's one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen - a cross between Scary Spice and Tyra Banks - 5'11 and a size 2-4. I think I'm doomed too when my kiddo becomes a teen.

Zoe was at my office with me on Saturday. She spent the afternoon doing cartwheels in the hallway, drawing on my whiteboard, making me notes, and she did a little work with me folding engineering figures.

I was on my computer and Zoe was drawing. Completely out of the blue she said:

"It doesn't matter what color you are if you're still sisters."

It struck a chord with me. I have been talking quite a bit with Zoe about what has been going on as it is all around us here in Houston. She knows that we are obligated to help. That these people, and children especially, need us and our help. During our prayers tonight, she talked about how she hoped the kids of "New Atlanta" were doing ok.

I worked the Houston Red Cross help phone line Sunday. It was four hours of non-stop phone calls with the most agonizing stories.

I didn't know which calls were worse. I had many from people who had lived in their cars for days, had a few nights in a hotel and now were looking for a place to go. There were many that were afraid to go to a shelter. Some who had sick children that could not be exposed to that many people. And at least three single moms who were scared to death as they had NOTHING. Some actually called me from the Astrodome.

I talked to people who were sobbing, men and women. These were the hardest to deal with as most often they were looking for loved ones.

So many stories of people who had lost loved ones. They saw them get on buses in front of them, or got separated during a helicopter or boat rescue. Women looking for their kids, for their husbands or relatives. They all sounded so exhausted and scared.

I felt so helpless. All I could do was to give them phone numbers of other places to call or websites to look at.

No. We weren't giving out food or clothing or Walmart vouchers.
No. We couldn't find you an apartment or get you a job.
No. We didn't have gas vouchers.

No. We didn't know what was going to happen to you. Where your loved ones were. How you were going to make a living. If your house was still there. Where you were going to live. If your child was dead or alive.

I tried so hard to be kind and nice. I was apologetic. I thanked them. I calmed them (even telling one that she had to take a breath as she was crying so hard). I reached down and put myself in their position and tried so hard to be respectful and decent because I knew that they had been through hell or were in hell and if there was anything I could give them, it was just to be human and kind.

I hope that I helped at least one person.

I wish that I could make my living helping these people. It was the first time in a long time where I felt like my skills were really being utilized and appreciated. That's really sad.

If I didn't feel so guilty to ask my sister to watch Zoe, I'm sure I would at least volunteer 10-20 hours a week. I might try to find a way to do something. I have to.

We all really have to. I don't see how anyone who has watched the news could not.

Posted by debutaunt at September 5, 2005 11:36 PM