back in the Pass for a weekend

I saw Freedom Writers, and it was amazing! I laughed, and I almost cried. I wish that I could be a great teacher like that.

I'm babysitting my youngest sister...just like the old days, but this house isn't the same. There's really nothing in here that was here from before the hurricane. There's no old pictures to make me think about the past, no childhood momentos. It's really strange to be back in here. It's nice, but it's not the same.

Ever think about going to a place that someone used to spend a great deal of time and actually seeing them there, even though they moved away almost a year ago or are no longer living? I think about things like this. I went to my cousin's old apartment, and it was so weird to not see her there. I felt like she should be there. I felt like she should run around the corner or I would bump into her going down the hall. I think about this when I go to the place we worked at last year as well.

After my great-grandmother died, it took a very long time for me to go back in the house. I just could not bear going there and not having her greet me at the door. I could not imagine not hearing her slippers scuffling on the wooden floor. I've been thinking about her a lot lately. It's a cruel joke that once you can truly appreciate your great-grandparents' stories and wisdom, they are ripped away from you. I have so much to tell her. I need her advice. I need her to listen to me. I need her to tell me that everything will be alright. I had a dream about her house the other night, which is really weird since it doesn't exist anymore thanks to the hurricane. I miss her.