Monday, February 25, 2013

2/11 Sinking Ship

Lord, I'm trying to stay positive.  I trying to remain optimistic  but it's getting so, SO difficult.   I'm trying to remember that you hold us in the palm of your hand, but I feel like I'm on a sinking ship, and I do NOT want to go down.

I'm waiting for a life raft, but I fear that the undertow is too strong for just a little dinghy.  At this point in time, my saving ship needs to be much, MUCH bigger.

It's getting too late.  it's been too long.  It's been too hard.  The ship is sinking down ever. so. slowly., but it's definitely going down.

It's been too long.  I'm too far from land, and I'm loosing hope.

Friday, February 22, 2013

2/7 Nothing to pass down

I'm so sad for myself and for my kids that I won't have anything from their early years to give them when they're older.  I'm so sad I don't anything from my younger years anymore.  I loved seeing Thing II play with and love things that were mine when I was a child.  I loved knowing that Thing I would be able to give his kids the wooden train sets he played with as a child.  I'm so sad that all of that's gone now.

I'm so sad that I won't be able to give them the outfits they were home from the hospital   I won't be able to give them their hospital blankets, the crocheted hats from the hospital, their favorite baby toys -their hospital pictures.

I so sad for them that all of their toys are gone.  I know that they had too many.  I know toys can be re-bought  but their toys were, in their minds, their worldly possessions, and they're gone, and it sucks.  And I can't keep them from that pain.

It sucks that Thing I has been dying to play Skylanders and wants back off of his figures   It sucks that I had to order online Thing II's replacement bedtime lovies and tell her they had to be sent back to the stores to be fixed after the fire, and that's why they look new and unloved.  (Thing II, if future you is reading this, and you've just now figured it out, 1.) I'm sorry, and 2.)  You're still awfully naive if you've really bought that story after all this time, and 3.) I love you (and your brother) soooo much to come up with that story and keep it going all these years.)

I am thankful that I have their ultrasound pictures.....


...........I thought that I would have more to list in here before I added:


Obviously their lives are the most precious things.  They cannot be replaced.  For having that listed among that which I have left after the fire, I am forever grateful.

Friday, February 15, 2013

2/6 Part II Happy Times

I want you to know that there is joy in my life as well.  This has not yet crushed me; it has not consumed me. I have love and laughter.  I have friends and family.  I have MUCH love and MUCH laughter.

For this and more, I am lucky.  For this and more, I am forever thankful.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

2/6 Seeing Flames

I can't remember the fire.  I know that it happened.  I remember it happening, but I can't vividly recall any images of it.

I remember what happened.  I remember that we pulled up and it looked like a fire in the driveway.  I remember how the flames quickly shot out the other side of the back of the house.  I remember moaning and crying "Oh my GOD!!!" when the flames came through the front windows, and I certainly can't forget the feeling of complete despair when the flames were coming out of both kids' bedroom windows upstairs.

I don't remember the fire trucks arriving -at all...  And that's odd because there were tons and tons of fire trucks.  I don't remember when my friends got there, or when the HUGE crowds arrived.  I do remember wondering why the fire police were allowing so many spectators -many with children, to stand so close to a burning house.  What if the windows blew out (before they were all smashed out)?  What if the house collapsed and rained debris on everyone?  How could these people not be worried about these things?  Didn't they have fire safety in school?

I remember there being thick, black smoke.  I remember that the flames were bright and hot and angry.  I can't see it in my mind though.  I know that I've looked at house fires on TV shows/movies/commercials, and that is NOT how our home looked.

I can't tell you how our home looked.

I don't remember.

I don't think that I WANT to remember.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

2/5 Things Lost

Every day I see another reminder of things that we lost; of things that are gone.  Yes, I know that these are just things and that most of them can be replaced.  However replacing them is a daunting task, and I haven't even really begun to thing about it yet.

With each realization of things lost, from bath scrubbies to microwaves, to toys to movies to furniture, from clothing to cookware to scrapbooks (which had hours and hours and loving work poured into them) each one is like a new stab in the heart.  It makes everything new and real again.  It bursts my bubble of comfort, and it leaves me careening helplessly out of control.  I am lucky that it's usually a short plummet as my family and friends are there at just the right moment, and they catch me, but the jolt of it is still searing.

I feel horribly guilty about this fire.  I feel guilty that I cannot protect my children from the grief they feel over it.  In a matter of minutes, their lives were shattered and they'll never be the same again.  We can rebuild.  We can re-buy, but things will never again be the same.

And perhaps I should think of that with joy.  Afterall, how many people get to re do EVERYTHING (material) all over again?...  But then again, we have to do EVERYTHING all over again.

...And for someone who gets overwhlemed just looking at some small replacement items, EVERYTHING is a lot.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

2/4 I am MAD!

Forward:  When you read this, do not be offended by it.  It was written out of frustration, desperation and PMS.  I really do appreciate everyone's warm wishes and kind words.  PMS is a monster.

I am mad!

I don't want words of encouragement today.  I don't need words of encouragement.  I need  house!  I need the insurance company to come through.  I need someplace that is mine so that I can feel like a real person again.

It's not that I don't appreciate the kind words -ah, crap!  who am I kidding?!  Today, I DON'T appreciate them.  They just make me angry.  Everything makes me angry...  And it's hard to be angry when you're trying to be kind.  It's hard to be angry when you have happy, innocent, smiling faces looking up at you.  It's hard to be angry when you're out of your comfort zone.

I want to be angry.  I want to yell!  I want to scream!  I want to throw things!  I want to tell the whole world to F&*K off!  I am angry, and I can't do anything about it.

I'm so, so angry, and everything makes it worse.

I'm sick.  I'm tired.  I have PMS.  I'm homeless, and I'm angry.

I want to go home.

Friday, February 8, 2013

2/2 Forgetting

I am starting to forget.  It's starting to fade...  already.

I'm not sure what it is that I'm starting to forget, but I can feel it slipping away.

Sometimes, during everyday routines, I startle myself when I remember this is not the way it's always been.  I realize that this is, in a sense, wrong.  This is not my life.  This is a borrowed life.  I'm getting too comfortable. -Who ever thought that would be a problem??

Leaving here is going to be hard -for all of us.  It's going to be another way of life ripped away from us.  I don't know if I'm ready for it yet.  I don't know if I'm ready to face the rest of the world; to face the whole truth.  I'm warm and safe here.

...But I'm settling in too deep, and I'm starting to forget.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

1/31 I am okay

I am okay.  I am okay because I am blessed.  I am blessed to have amazing family and friends and friends of family and family of friends.  They are truly amazing, and I am blessed to have them directly and indirectly in my life.

I am blessed also because through our suffering, we have been able to help facilitate a miracle.  We have had SO MANY people help us.  The amount of which just completely blows my mind.  We have had people who know and like us help us.  We have had people who do not directly know us help us.  We have also have had people who know and don't necessarily like us (putting it nicely) help us.  We have had SO MANY people come to our aid in our time of need. SO MANY people have been touched and moved by our tragedy.  SO MANY people have opened up their hearts to us in so many different ways.  People who normally would not have been able to open up their hearts in such a way.  Through our suffering, we have been the key to unlocking their hearts.  To know this information -to know that we have helped to bring about a miracle, is amazing. It is awe inspiring.  It is healing like nothing else.

Don't get me wrong.  There are most certainly still MANY, MANY up's and down's.  However, now that I know this truth, I can see this from a new perspective.  Being able to see the incredible love brought about through all of this lets me know that we are not alone in this.  It lets me know that our suffering is not senseless.  It lets me know that while it's hard now, we are being carried by HIS love, by HIS hand, by HIS faithfulness in us.  HE chose us for this job; for this miracle.  HE CHOSE US!

I grew up in the Catholic Church.  I've since grown away from the Church and from God.  I don't know how long it's been since I've actually been to Church save for the occasional funeral or wedding.  While I believe in God, I don't normally witness to anyone.  I've never been so compelled to do so.  However, this is amazing.  How anyone, God-fearing or not, can deny that is beyond me.

It will be a long road to recovery.  It will be hard.  There will be many and more up's and down's.  We're not alone though.  He carries us in Spirit.  He carries us in faith.  He carries us in friends and family.

We had to loose almost all of our earthly possessions to realize just how truly blessed we are, and blessed we are indeed.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

1/30 Shoes

It's unseasonably warm today.  It's January 30th, and it's 50 degrees.

I want to jog.  I want to run.  I want to let it all go, and get lost in the burning in my legs and the bursting in my lungs.  I want to fly.

But then I remember I have no running shoes.  They were lost to the flames.

I have no house.  I have people giving me clothing to wear.  I can't justify buying new running shoes, nor will I let anyone buy them for me.  Swallowing my pride to accept the other donations of basic needs is hard enough.  *I* will buy my own shoes...  But when?

How do I justify spending that money on them?  How is it right that I splurge on them?  How does that work?  How is that right?

But I want to run and forget it all.

Especially on warm, breezy days like today.

I want to run.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Moving forward 1/29

Moving forward is hard.  Moving forward means letting go of what was.  It means to travel into the unknown.  It is to be out of control of the situation.  Moving forward is hard.

I have a difficult time looking at the stuff that people have collected and sent to us (sent to our families and friends for us).  It's a reminder of all that was lost....  and SO MUCH was lost.  The biggest thing lost?  Our way of life as I (we) knew it.  It's almost the loss of an identity, and as such, I float through the motions, but don't really have a sense of who I am, or of where I belong.

Home is supposed to be where your heart is, and where your heart is, is home.  In that sense, I currently have the biggest and most amazing home ever.  However, regardless of the loving warmth and happiness of it, it's not my home.  I'm only borrowing it.  I'm living in someone else's heart, and while I'm forever grateful for being able to share in that amazing place, it's not mine, and it's not forever.

I'm afraid to move forward.  I'm afraid to forget all that we had in our home.  I'm afraid to forget the amazing memories there.  I'm afraid to let them go.  Yes, I know that those memories will live on forever in my mind and in my heart, but moving forward means that they will live ONLY there.  I won't be able to look at something, and instantly be taken back to a time and place.  Moving forward is not looking back.

I'm afraid to move forward.  I'm afraid that all of the emotions that I've been suppressing for the past three weeks -the past few years -for my entire life will come bubbling to the surface and never stop flowing.  I'm afraid of the grief that's even bigger than I am will swallow me whole.  I'm afraid that if all that bursts through my not-so-cool-exterior, that I may never be the same.

I am afraid of the unknown.  I am afraid to be out of control.  I am afraid to forget.  I am afraid to remember.

I am afraid.

Moving forward is hard.

Monday, February 4, 2013

1/27 Three Weeks

It's an incredulous feat for me to believe that tomorrow marks three weeks since the fire.  Even after almost a month, it all still seems so surreal.  I keep saying that I just can't wrap my brain around it, and it's true.  I know that my house is gone, my possessions are gone, my kitty is gone, but deep down, it really hasn't quite hit yet.  I still feel half as if I'm living someone else's nightmare, and half as if I'm on vacation.

Being with family is amazing, and it's so easy to forget that anything is amiss outside of the warmth of their love and their family.  I LOVE being here.  They've often said that they live in a bubble, and I'm so glad that I've been privileged enough to be a part of their bubble for the past three weeks.  It's an amazing place surrounded by love and laughter.  No wonder it's so easy to forget that my worldly possessions fit in one room and a personal box trailer.

Then I look at something simple, like my new bath mitt and realize, "Wow.  Even THIS is gone.  EVERYTHING is gone..."  and I'm floored again.  The terrible truth of what has actually happened comes rising to the surface again.  I can't deal with it.  I'm not ready to deal with it.  I wonder if I'll EVER be ready to deal with it....  And if I CAN'T ever deal with it, how will I ever move on?

Friday, February 1, 2013

1/19 Stuck on Spaghetti Sandwiches

My head is still swimming.  I'm still a ball of emotion.  I still have a hard time seeing past the next hour, but that is getting better.

I need to start planning future events to help give me guide posts to get me through this.  I'll use them to navigate my way as sailors use the stars to navigate.

I'm still hopelessly lost.  Waves of emotion flow over me.  They range from anguish over loosing my home and almost everything inside to joy in the many pictures being recovered to anger of those saying horrible things about the cause of the fire, to love and humility when thinking about all those helping to get us on our feet again.  Then back to an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness when I try to figure out how to repay all of these people.  Somehow, I don't  think a cookie basket or a molten lava cake (as awesome as they are) will cut it as a thank-you....

I try to look towards the future and our new house with hope.  I try to look towards a home that will be ours just the way we want it.  ......I can't see it though.

I can't see forward and I can't see backwards.  I can't even remember things that I used to make for dinner.  I can only remember spaghetti sandwiches...  That's what we were supposed to have for dinner that awful night.

I'm stuck on spaghetti sandwiches, and I can't move beyond.  I can't see forward and I can't see backwards.  I'm just stuck.