My New Orleans Monday

This past Monday we attended the funeral of my husband's paternal grandfather. PawPaw was 92 years old. Born & raised in New Orleans, he had spent nearly a century loving the food, culture and music of the place he called home. It was only fitting that the hearse and limo were accompanied by a jazz band playing a funeral dirge. After the service we went to the home that has been in the family since the 1930's. The house was devastated by hurricane Katrina, but PawPaw was able to return home almost 1 year ago. We tried to maintain the original style, but at the same time make the house easier to navigate with a walker so it does look slightly different. At times PawPaw would remember, and at other times he would ask when we were going to bring him back to his house. Previous to the storm he was very healthy for his age. I suppose his old body couldn't handle the stress of being away from his way of life for two years and then coming home to a neighborhood that was nearly destroyed. When they first got back he would sit on the front porch and watch his neighbors and the traffic. He was happy to be home. He lived a long life. So many stories to tell. We learned a lot about the family history. I believe cousin Tien said that PawPaw's father and uncle spoke French, German, and English. He also said they opened up one of the very first coffee shops in New Orleans. When I'm finished with this semester I'm going to do some research for my hubby and daughter. Well any way, all things considered, we had a wonderful time. We looked at old photographs and laughed with hubby's cousins. We also did what most New Orleanians do on a Monday.....we ate red beans and rice and a whole slew of other stuff!