Day 710: Madre Trumps All

“Times are not good here. The city is crumbling into ashes. It has been buried under a lava flood of taxes and frauds and maladministrations so that it has become only a study for archaeologists. Its condition is so bad that when I write about it, as I intend to do soon, nobody will believe I am telling the truth. But it is better to live here in sackcloth and ashes than to own the whole state of Ohio.” — Lafcadio Hearn

Today, I think of two mothers — one in Ohio and the other in New Orleans.

I’d rather be in a sackcloth in Ohio right now, if that’s what it takes to (stay employed and) tend to my mother, who is soon going into surgery for a third time in one year and for the same thing.  The sensitive nature of her problem precludes me from divulging any facts, but know that it involves much discomfort, blood loss and hellish pain.  For an indomitable firebrand in her sixties who looks and sounds great, the state of Mom’s body just doesn’t keep up with its owner’s harsh demands and belies the “Oh, I’m just fine” facade.  Mom is a dream patient — as a former medical professional herself, she does everything her doctors tell her to and is such a trooper about the whole exasperating fiasco.  Unfortunately, nothing sticks, and she is starting to lose patience with her ailment, as I would have long ago if in her shoes.  She is sick of it, bored with it, rolling her eyes at it, all while routinely consuming the various prescribed medications.  Medications.  Plural.  It can never be simple, so Mom’s drugs and therapies are in a conflict-of-interest situation and probably make her feel worse than better.  Acknowledging the fragility of the woman who made me, in more ways than one, is a most horrifying and lonesome experience.

Karen Gadbois is a mother, too, and how she “gadflies” about New Orleans with a high-school-aged daughter at home, I do not know.  Now, Karen is in the midst of another storm (and made the front page of the Wall Street Journal for her work – full article here), which this time involves a very sketchy set of circumstances surrounding home demolitions in this town.  Some perfectly-fine, undamaged and owner-occupied houses may have accidentally ended up on the City’s demo list, but more than a few, with a nebulous appeal process to boot?  If you are a pattern recognizer and somewhat suspicious of government like me, how would you justify the loss and impending loss of homes, that were independently (and initially) declared fit, and the refusal of the City to divulge who authorized these demolitions?  Furthermore, why would you care if it isn’t your home on the list?  Karen doesn’t have to put her neck out there everyday, kicking down tables and demanding answers, but she does … for you and me, but mostly for that girl of hers.  [You can help Karen and New Orleans citizens by asking why our local paper hasn’t busted the lid on this story like the Wall Street Journal has, for shame, discussing with friends and neighbors, contacting your city officials for answers and informing homeowners of their rights.]

Mom and Karen occupy most of my thoughts today, even if it is wishing each of them catches a much-needed break.  They give and give and give, and some day, they’ve got to get back.  I’m honored to have both of these ladies in my life.  May it be so for a long time to come.

VatulBlog will return to regular scheduled programming on Monday, August 13th.  Have a great weekend.