I Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans

The day finally arrived last Friday for me to board a plane in Atlanta, and fly to my beloved New Orleans. I guess the running joke the entire weekend was the waterworks that I couldn't turn off -- many, many tears of joy. I choked back tears when I saw "my" mural of noted Louisiana musicians in vivid blue and yellow seemingly stories high at the airport, when I saw the ad for Commander's Palace while riding the escalator to baggage claim, upon seeing my dear Jenny and Baby Betsy, and then later Julie and Baby Lucy, at the Boulangerie while devouring a delicious chocolate croissant, at Domilise's (sp??) picking up our delicious Po Boys for lunch Saturday, during the 13.1 mile ride around NOLA scoping out the back half of the marathon that Aunt Julie was certain to complete, while Julie and I were sitting in her Jeep parked at the Superdome at 6:45 a.m. waiting to walk over to the start of the marathon (as LLPs - ha - very inside joke!), while walking the half-marathon through the greatest city that God has ever put on Earth, seeing the signs "Back in Business" on the streetcars on St. Charles (not trolleys!), passing the Columns Hotel which is where I first saw the second line at a wedding, passing Julie on St. Charles during the marathon and realizing that she was doing so well, seeing Julie turn off Poydras to Sugar Bowl Drive and crossing the marathon finish line, when she received her finisher's medallion, when we pulled up to the valet at Commander's Palace, while listening to the glorious jazz quartet during the celebratory brunch play "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans," while saying goodbye to Lucy Bug and Christian, when my cousin Karen took me over to the FQ on Monday to pick up some stuff at Central Grocery and running through the gaudy tourist gift shop next door (yes, the sight of plastic mardi gras necklaces and an array of NOLA shot glasses chokes me up everytime), saying goodbye to Julie, saying goodbye to Jenny and Betsy, and boarding the plane. I guess the only time that I was able to turn off the waterworks was at the New Orleans Arena on Friday night -- mainly because my friend Brian told me that he wouldn't take me to the luxury suite to watch the Hornets otherwise! I miss you, New Orleans. Ooops...here come the waterworks again. Of course, to quote the song, "I miss the ones I care for, more than I miss New Orleans...and that's you (my dear, dear friends)!"