I have been tossing and turning all day as to where to start this post.
Probably shouldn’t of waited till 11p.m. to start it.
I have been going through emails that people have sent since
my first #31days post yesterday.
Man, you guys know how to make a girl cry, feel loved and blessed.
my readers rock.
I have a hard time going back to my original post (click here), usually just to grab the link if needed, and scamper off.
It sucks looking at the pictures…amazing how your memory forgets things, only to have a sinking feeling when you see it, to relive it.
Things you can’t manage to toss, feeling the need to hold on to so you won’t forget. I have never deleted my voicemails from that day. Even from the panicked alarm company rep….I can’t make myself hit delete, even though I don’t listen to it (I’m kind of weird that way).
We received the frantic call from a neighbor, that our house was on fire
on Thanksgiving weekend.
The longest walk I can remember taking was several blocks up to our street, every thing was barricaded off. My friend held my hand along those streets up to the house…I just wasn’t prepared for it.
I was greeted by neighbors, friends and family, teachers, our fabulous church friends, our kiddos principals…yeah, it’s a pretty good school system. We talked things through with the Fire Firefighters and I begged to go in and find my wedding ring.
I never slept that night, not one bit, as I went through my head that we had just walked away with a charred watch as our only possession,
and only could see the glow of the five year old’s night light as we drove off.
Thoughts were running rampant about the next morn. I had overheard my husband tell some people we would be back in the early a.m. to sort through the rubble. We showed up early, and I thought there might be five, possibly ten of us who would go back. I mean seriously, who would want to sort through wet soot in search of someone else’s life?
Evidently a lot of people did, and this is where I kept and still keep losing it.
Some I knew, some I hadn’t seen in years, and half were complete strangers.
Strangers who felt like they needed to help.
Strangers who dropped off cash, gift cards, clothes, food….
Neighbor kids who brought their piggy banks over.
I am a private person, and having people everywhere in our house was hard, especially as I was unravelling, watching these gracious and helpful people go through our life. Digging and grasping for anything that had a chanc at being salvaged.
They were amazing, blew me-the crazy lady who kept telling them they didn’t have to do that, off and just kept going.
We laughed, cried, laughed again and cried harder.
And to the guy, a dad of a friend of our daughters, who showed up crazy early and didn’t stop till he found my wedding bands in the grass by the fence late in the day, I will forever be grateful.
Actually I am grateful more than words can say for the outpouring of love throughout the past 10 months. Everyone worked, hugged, cried and laughed from sun up till way past sun down.
I think that there were even moments of some guys sporting my purses in the backyard, but no one will admit to that.
We sorted through clothes, dishes, toys….everything.
Neighbor kids came and even helped wash barbies, only to donate their own toys to us.
Clothes were divided between the principal, vice principal, a local dry cleaners and
the restoration place.
Friends took jewelry and the few sentimental pieces we had.
The restoration place came that night and the next day to pick up everything else.
Everyone went through the entire house in a day. After talking to our adjuster, this is a pretty big deal. He said most take about a month to sort through their property.
Funny how when you grow up in a place you can’t wait to get out of there. Not like you ever hated it, you just want a change and you still always have, even now that you have kids.
Until something like this happens. And you begin to realize that it was a good thing to stay.
There was a reason God may have let you leave a time or two, but he always had a way of bringing you back.
Community is a fabulous thing.
Knowing you neighbors is a fabulous thing.
Having a wonderful church and school is a fabulous thing.
Insurance (as much as I want to bang my head on the table because of it at times) is a fabulous thing.
Friends who will physically pick you up off the ground and let you do your ugly cry, and they will cry with you, is a beautiful thing.
We walked off, late that night, and closed the front door one last time, nailing it shut.
Being overwhelmed is one thing, but being overwhelmed with love, support, generosity, unselfishness, hugs and donations is another.
Another very precious blessing.