Eating My Words

Today, June 14th, marks 4 months since the fire. I'm not as surprised by how much time has passed as I am by my reaction to seeing some fire trucks in route earlier today. I was on my way to pick up Alyssa, who is officially a teenager now, when I saw a fire truck headed in the opposite direction, lights and sirens blazing. I hoped everything was OK and proceeded on my way. About a minute later, I saw a second, headed in the same direction. It occurred to me that that was likely how it had been with our fire, and my heart sank. I said a prayer for the family who was in distress, and hoped it was a false alarm.

As I continued on my way, I just couldn't shake the sadness that had overcome me. It made me wish I had cried when my house burned down. I flashed back to the drive down the hill from Big Bear. I remembered preparing myself to arrive calmly (I felt strangely calm about the whole thing) and then fall to my knees in hysterics when I walked through the charred remains of our house, like you see in the movies - but that isn't how it happened. I didn't cry. My friends cried. They told me I was in shock and that would explain why I wasn't crying. At the time I thought they were crazy. Certainly that is not how people in shock felt. They always looked so dazed and confused. I didn't feel either. I felt grateful. Not grateful that my house burned but grateful for all those things I have mentioned in earlier posts. But today I wished I had cried, I was certain that if I had cried then, I wouldn't feel like crying now.

When I arrived home I snuggled up to Mike who was watching a golf game on TV. And when he asked my what was wrong, all I could say was "I'm sad that my house burned down". I know it seemed strange to him but I didn't think my explanation would make it seem any clearer. "Really, still?" he asked. But the thing is, it's not the kind of thing that just goes away after a certain amount of time and there really isn't any way to anticipate what will conjure up feelings about it.

I have really been trying to "keep my chin up" and "get over it". I did not want to be one of those people who said "I will never be the same because _____ happened to me" I did not want to be defined by this fire. But what I realized today is that we are "forever changed" by lots of things and it doesn't have to be bad. For example, I am not the same person now that I was before I had kids, they changed me forever and I think I am better for it. I am growing and changing constantly, and that's a good thing. There are somethings that are markers, some would call them defining moments, and I supposed it's denial to pretend this period of my life wouldn't be one of them. So, here is yet another example of me eating my words and a caution to you, never say never:

I am changed forever by the events that surrounded my fire, yup I've said it, I will never be the same. BUT I am better for it because, I have a greater understanding of what it means to show love in tangible ways, I am more compassionate to those that are hurting, I realize that time may not heal all wounds and that the things that seem so important in one moment may not seem at all important in the next.

I think they are all important lessons that if I hadn't learned by now, I wouldn't have learned in enough time to make a difference in any one's life - including my own.