Kids will teach you a lot, in the worst of times.
In a huge wtf moment, I get a call today around 11:35. It was my ex-wife so I figured it was concerning when I would pick up the kids for the weekend. In a highly excited voice, fraught with tension she says "I know how you like to keep abreast of the goings-on at your kids house, so I figured I'd tell you that it is on fire."
For an tiny nano-second I figured she was jacking with me. Then, I realized she'd not joke about such a thing.
The garage, kitchen, breakfast room and part of the dining room was either crisp or totally smoked out. No one was hurt, but many were very distraught. Children are imensely resiliant. The baby seems to be ok with it, at times it appears she has no clue, but when her brother or sister mentions something about it, she says the house is broke.
Anthony took it in stride, asking questions about how it happened.
Zali, the oldest was devestated. Not so much about her belongings, she cried a bit about her computer that melted. However, she was most concerned about her family, "her people" that she sees every day - not being together. That makes her quite special, and i'm proud she's most concerned about her family being together; rather than the physical effects that matter so little in the long run.
A good deal of her home is inhabitable, the family is flung to the four corners of the town. Mom at a friends, grandma at great grandmas, them here with me. I did my best to get her to look at the twenty or so people gathered around -- deciding how to best go about reconstructing; tears in most of their eyes. I told her that all of those people are ready to pick up a hammer, saw or board and rebuild. Her home isn't gone, it's slightly crisp, but all of those people will make it whole again, because they are what makes a home, home.
We're here, but slightly sooty. We're tighter and closer than before.
For an tiny nano-second I figured she was jacking with me. Then, I realized she'd not joke about such a thing.
The garage, kitchen, breakfast room and part of the dining room was either crisp or totally smoked out. No one was hurt, but many were very distraught. Children are imensely resiliant. The baby seems to be ok with it, at times it appears she has no clue, but when her brother or sister mentions something about it, she says the house is broke.
Anthony took it in stride, asking questions about how it happened.
Zali, the oldest was devestated. Not so much about her belongings, she cried a bit about her computer that melted. However, she was most concerned about her family, "her people" that she sees every day - not being together. That makes her quite special, and i'm proud she's most concerned about her family being together; rather than the physical effects that matter so little in the long run.
A good deal of her home is inhabitable, the family is flung to the four corners of the town. Mom at a friends, grandma at great grandmas, them here with me. I did my best to get her to look at the twenty or so people gathered around -- deciding how to best go about reconstructing; tears in most of their eyes. I told her that all of those people are ready to pick up a hammer, saw or board and rebuild. Her home isn't gone, it's slightly crisp, but all of those people will make it whole again, because they are what makes a home, home.
We're here, but slightly sooty. We're tighter and closer than before.