WILL YOU REMEMBER ME

Will you remember me? Why should you? I didn’t live much of a life. I worked a meager job trying to support my ailing mother and myself. Though we didn’t have the riches of the world we were good people. We are honest and we loved this city.
So what did you want us to do when the hurricane was approaching? My job stayed open so I had to be there. Unlike big politicians, I work paycheck-to-paycheck and most of the time that’s not enough to get by. When my job finally did close, it was too late to evacuate, especially in the mist of all the chaos of trying to get out of the city. There was no one there to help me with my ailing mother, no one there to tell us where to go or how to get there. We were simply told to leave but that’s no good without the means at our disposal. Therefore, with all the wood and food we could gather my mother and I planned to ride out the storm.
That night Hurricane Katrina hit with an unholy force. I had never heard wind howl with such a vengeance. It was almost as if the storm had a purpose, a reason, a soul. Rain pounded on our small home with so much force it felt like we were in the middle of a war zone. Shingles ripped from our house with so much speed it made a high screeching sound as if we were being cut open like a tin can.
Later that night the winds increased. We could hear water slamming against our fragile home. Water began to seep into the house. Before I knew it, water was ankle high and then knee high. My mother and I had taken refuge in her room. It was the sturdiest part of the house but it would be no match for the rising water. I had to think fast. The attic was our only hope, but it was going to be a challenge to get my mother there. I needed to go first. I comforted my mother told her my plan and headed down the hallway.
As I walked toward the attic, I saw our material possessions floating all around me. Never had I thought about how unimportant and invaluable these trinkets were to me. Surviving was the only thing on my mind. There was no time to waste, the water was steadily rising and now it was up to my waist. I had walked down this hallway hundreds of times but this by far was the longest walk of my life.
Finally, I made it. I pulled down the attic door and dropped the ladder. Suddenly there was a loud bang and the entire house felt like it was leaning. I rushed back to my mother’s room jumping with each step trying to keep my head above water. I was in total shock when I saw that our neighbor’s house had crashed into my mother’s bedroom. Her bed had floated to the far side of the room and she wasn’t anywhere in sight. I yelled out desperately to her with no answer. I knew my mother couldn’t swim and neither could I, as I took a deep breath and dipped my head into the murky waters. All that I could see was filth and darkness. As my air expended I rose my head up above the waters. In the corner of the room, I noticed a hand outreach from the waters. “Mother,” I yelled out as I waded over to her. In my mind, I knew it was too late but I had to see her, hold her, and be with her.
The water was now above my head, but I was able to make it to my mother. I held her. She was dead. Now so am I. Will you remember me?