On Having the Blues
After a big excursion, be it a vacation or Mardi Gras, or in this case, two solid days of French Quarter Fest, I am always left blue. Add to that the very little sleep I got last night (we are attempting to use the Ferber method to get Sun to omit that 3am bottle-feeding) coupled with the stress of tax time, and I have been reduced to a sappy mess. This afternoon, I read a post on the blog of a new internet friend that literally brought me to tears.
I know New Orleans has a lot of things that are negative about it. But on a weekend like this it is hard to believe someone can be sad here. The weather has just been perfect–in the 70s with breezes blowing, the city is lush in green everywhere you look. And with good food and drink (without over-imbibing), and pleasant time spent with friends and family, the blues snuck up on me unawares.
I spent part of my day at the mall. I hate, HATE, H.A.T.E. the mall. And I was there to return stuff I bought on sale earlier in the week. I got sucked into the ole “the more you spend the more you save” routine. And living with buyer’s remorse sent me back today to set things straight again. I don’t like how much emphasis this country (the world?) puts on clothing and labels and buying the latest fashion. And to find it in a store selling baby clothing really set me even further in a funk. And to tip the scales to assure my misery was that while I was there returning $60 worth of baby clothes that may or may not fit Sun in a year, the mother in front of me was buying $350 worth of stuff for her five-year old daughter: dresses, sandals, tops, pants, shorts, bracelets, sunglasses. Really? Do you need the matching bandanna AND bracelet AND sandals to go with a sundress for a five year old? If so, Sun will not be popular.
Once done with the mall (and I was outta there pretty fast), I went to St. Henry’s Church. The New Orleans Archdiocese has made the decision that it will be closing this church along with several others soon. Not because of Katrina. But because the Archdiocese is a business and these churches aren’t turning the profit they want to see. St. Henry’s is where my great-great-great-grandfather’s funeral was out of; it’s the church where my great-grandparents as well as my uncle were married. It is walking distance from property that has been in my family for over a hundred years. Its closing is very symbolic to me. And of course, very sad.
See, I live and thrive in New Orleans because I do not like change. And neither does New Orleans. For better or worse, we both like to keep on keeping on. And when we do change, that change is slow. S.L.O.W. But I do not attend St. Henry’s Church (I currently attend church very rarely). I feel I have “no dog in the fight,” that it is only for sentimental reasons that I want that church to stay open. But for St. Henry’s 300 parishioners, it’s not symbolic nor sentimental, it just plain sucks. Maitri does a much better job articulating the feelings of New Orleanians about these church closings.
So of course, getting to St. Henry’s and finding it locked really bummed me out further. I’ll be going to mass there next Sunday. At least it will afford me the opportunity to ask my family members if they’d like to accompany me. I think they will.
I know I will come out of this funk, and probably sooner on account on all this nice weather NOLA is having. And all the spring cleaning CS and I are doing in the house. It is helping just to have our windows open right now. And out one of those windows I can see a bloom on my hibiscus bush. Because that punch of red admist all the green that abounds really keeps a gal like me from staying blue too long.