Yesterday was one of those days where I missed New Orleans more than most.
It doesn’t happen as often anymore– not pangs of heart-pulls. Not moments of dizziness.
Just random moments that seem to pop up out of thin air and make me miss the tiny things:
Late October days spent lying by the bayou.
Running with kids through pothole-ridden streets.
Glitter stuck to every inseam and hairline.
Frenchman Street roiling with Halloween costumes.
Late Sunday mornings drinking coffee and coconut water.
Right as I was thinking: “I wish so and so was here, I wish I was at this place” I received a message from a friend:
“Here’s a letter someone left at the June Project box in New Orleans.”
I don’t believe in magic. Or praying. Or things popping out of thin air.
But have had so many people pop back into my life right when I thought of or needed them most that it’s pretty hard to argue some of the oldest clichés in the book:
People come back into our lives for a reason.
Places maintain some kind of hold on us for a reason.
Right before leaving New Orleans, a friend helped me hammer a golden envelope-shaped box into a tree near the Cabrini Bridge along Bayou St John. A place to leave memories and notes for the Bayou.
Since moving, I hadn’t heard of or received any letters. Figured the box got blown away by a storm or “borrowed” by a festival reveller.
But yesterday, the very same friend who helped me nail a box into a tree sent me a slew of images: “Look! It’s working! People are leaving letters!!”
And here is one of those letters that touched and moved me most:
On this day 6 years ago, the love of my life was killed in a motorcycle accident.
I thought the phone call I received at work would destroy me.
Today I sat on the swing with a friend that I’m helping and he laughed and I realized I’m still here for a reason.
Even if that reason is to be nothing more than a helping hand and a kind heart in a cruel world.
Thank you for making me smile today