We went up to Indianapolis Saturday for Abraham Christie’s first birthday party.
It was good to see li’l Abe and also his parents, PJ and Andrea, who were amongst our closest friends in New Orleans.
But it was also a little sad. PJ and Andrea will not be moving back to the city where Abe was born. I haven’t asked exactly why. I don’t want to pry into such an obviously painful decision. What’s more, the reasons are all too easy to imagine. So I have imagined them and left it at that. They don’t need to explain this to anyone.
Still, it is sad to contemplate. Andrea is a talented artist. PJ is a skilled web developer. They are loving and responsible parents. New Orleans’ loss is Indianapolis’ gain.
Thousands of displaced New Orleanians are having to grapple with this question now: to return or to make a new life elsewhere?
Many will doubtless choose the latter, and you can’t blame ’em. The rebuilding will be tough, and this whole Katrina scenario could play out again next month or next year. That’s hard to stomach. That’s what scares me the most.
After Abe’s party we hit the west side of Indy and had dinner with Lynn and his betrothed, Jennifer. He grilled giant half-pound burgers and I ate two, plus desert. Ouch! I think I’m overeating from Katrina anxiety.