You know the saying.
And on that early February morning, there was smoke. And all that goes with it. And my in-laws were wakened by firefighters rousing them in time to get away from the danger.
By the time I arrived on the scene, hours later, all the flames were extinguished. The smell of smoke hung thick in the air. Water from the hoses still swamped the weathered tile. Where there had once been weddings and birthday parties and rehearsal dinners and showers, there was now charred wooden beams and fallen insulation. Memories of what used to stand.
I have never thought of fire as one of my fears but I still didn’t need to linger long in that space. I didn’t want to remember it that way. The very sight of the destruction just repulsed me.
I watched our family review the scene. My daughter was immediately shaken. “Things can be replaced, people can’t” I said, over and over again. I meant it. But that didn’t change the feeling of loss. It is hard to see a place with that many memories just go up in smoke.
Now the work of rebuilding begins. I try to frame it as an opportunity – it will come back better than ever. In the mean time, our family schedules and rhythms shift. Some of us have to be sure to get our steps in when it used to come through the course of work. Sleep interruptions are more frequent. Minds race with very different concerns than before.
I am reminded to be grateful that everything can be fixed. And to appreciate what we have while we have it. And especially, to appreciate who we have while we have them.
2 Chicks and a blog 