bears
One of my most prized possessions came from Wal-Mart.
I had that realization watching the evacuations ahead of Katrina. At the time I thought, they're so lucky. They had days' warnings. They had time to consider their options, pack the photos and call relatives to say, "we're coming" or priceline themselves cheap hotel rooms out of the path of the storm.And then I thought about Boo-Boo.
Where I grew up, in the middle of a national forest prone to bursting into flames every summer, we didn't have the luxury of time. If the order to evacuate came, we had minutes to grab what was most precious and get the hell out.
And let me just tell you, the threat of a forest fire is genuine. A good chunk of Los Alamos burned in 2000. A raging fire burned down the house of my parents' friends along with dozens of others in 2002.
One of my last trips to Ruidoso was a mad dash spurred by fire. One burned over the ridge from my parents' home, they were out of town and the someone needed to rescue the cats before the officials cleared the neighborhood. Thankfully, they moved up here six months later.
But again, that threat was real, and from that, we had contengency plans. My parents kept their important papers in a fireproof box. My mom used to joke that she kept a collage of my baby pictures next to the front door so she could grab them on the way out. And my job? My job was to grab my teddy bear, Boo-Boo.
Boo-Boo is a brown bear with an earnest face my dad gave me for Christmas fifteen years ago (twenty-seven minus fifteen equals twelve, yes, shut up). He came from the Ruidoso Wal-Mart. And okay, yeah, I've known for fifteen years that he came from Wal-Mart, it wasn't until Monday night that it really grabbed at my bleeding heart and shook it. Boo-Boo, with his ripped up nose and dingy face from all those years of love (shut up), Boo-Boo came from Wal-Mart.
And then I went home and clutched Boo-Boo to my chest for the night (shut. up.), grateful that I still have him regardless of his parentage. I was grateful that I had my house and my family. I was grateful that my parents never lost their house, that they moved to Albuquerque. I thought of all the people in New Orleans who do not have their Boo-Boos, their homes, or their families and I was grateful for what I have. For now.
Donate to the Red Cross.
I had that realization watching the evacuations ahead of Katrina. At the time I thought, they're so lucky. They had days' warnings. They had time to consider their options, pack the photos and call relatives to say, "we're coming" or priceline themselves cheap hotel rooms out of the path of the storm.And then I thought about Boo-Boo.
Where I grew up, in the middle of a national forest prone to bursting into flames every summer, we didn't have the luxury of time. If the order to evacuate came, we had minutes to grab what was most precious and get the hell out.
And let me just tell you, the threat of a forest fire is genuine. A good chunk of Los Alamos burned in 2000. A raging fire burned down the house of my parents' friends along with dozens of others in 2002.
One of my last trips to Ruidoso was a mad dash spurred by fire. One burned over the ridge from my parents' home, they were out of town and the someone needed to rescue the cats before the officials cleared the neighborhood. Thankfully, they moved up here six months later.
But again, that threat was real, and from that, we had contengency plans. My parents kept their important papers in a fireproof box. My mom used to joke that she kept a collage of my baby pictures next to the front door so she could grab them on the way out. And my job? My job was to grab my teddy bear, Boo-Boo.
Boo-Boo is a brown bear with an earnest face my dad gave me for Christmas fifteen years ago (twenty-seven minus fifteen equals twelve, yes, shut up). He came from the Ruidoso Wal-Mart. And okay, yeah, I've known for fifteen years that he came from Wal-Mart, it wasn't until Monday night that it really grabbed at my bleeding heart and shook it. Boo-Boo, with his ripped up nose and dingy face from all those years of love (shut up), Boo-Boo came from Wal-Mart.
And then I went home and clutched Boo-Boo to my chest for the night (shut. up.), grateful that I still have him regardless of his parentage. I was grateful that I had my house and my family. I was grateful that my parents never lost their house, that they moved to Albuquerque. I thought of all the people in New Orleans who do not have their Boo-Boos, their homes, or their families and I was grateful for what I have. For now.
Donate to the Red Cross.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home