I ain't a wuss or nuthin', but I find myself getting teary-eyed at an exceptionally high rate these days (I suspect this is a common symptom among my fellow citizens, though I haven't asked). It happens at odd little moments, often while reading the newspaper (particularly while reading the excellent but painful "Lives Lost" series memorializing people who died in the storm). It happens at other moments too, when I stumble on some little reminder of what our city went through, or some unexpected sign of life coming back.
It happened most recently on Saturday, when Louise and I ran into a jazz funeral honoring the ten members of Zulu who died in the storm. It was my first second line since being back, and damn it was good to see.