Moving On

Just today, as I was talking to Goose, she told me that every night she has nightmares about fires.  She has said things in the past, but I guess I never really put it together.  I still have nightmares about the fire.  It's been almost two years (May 24) and it suddenly hit me that we aren't even close to being "over it."

I know I said I was grateful.  After the fire I felt so profound and overwhelmed at the outcome of the events but the reality is that it completely crushed my family.  I feel like only very recently we are finally coming out of the fog (or smoke, if you will.)

While I was thankful and incredibly blessed to have come through things as we did, I was still completely lost.  We were all safe even though all our stuff was lost.  But it was more than our "stuff" that was lost.  I lost a sense of security, a sense of permanence.   Apparently, so did Goose.  Sure I was grateful, but then what?  There was and is so much rebuilding to do and I finally feel ready. 

The past two years have felt like a blur.  I have been living.  I have been getting by.  I have been existing.  But never moving forward.  And I don't know what it is but I finally feel ready to let go.  To let go of all of the things I lost.  The things we did manage to box up and move have just sat in boxes for the last 21 months.  Our house felt nothing like a home.  While I had things to hang on the wall, they sat covered in dust in the garage.  Our windows sat without curtains.  In the back of my head I thought, "Why bother? It will all burn to the ground?"

In the last few weeks though, both my husband and I have felt the change.  I can't put my finger on what it is exactly, but we are finally ready to let go and move on.  I bought a new lamp and some curtains.  The kitchen looks welcoming.  The living room looks more cozy everyday.  I finally feel like this is a place I can stay...

And yet, I forgot to think of how any of this has effected my daughter.  She was only 4 when the fire happened and I took for granted the fear in her heart.  I pushed her fears out of my mind, as there was no room for anyone's fears but my own.  However today she told me that every night... Every night she has bad dreams about the bad people burning our house down with a match.  It breaks my heart to think that while I was working so hard to deny my fears, here she was, living hers.  I wasn't ready to accept that the trauma from the fire was still impacting me today, how could I possibly see that it could mean to anyone else.  But...

I am finally ready to deal with it.  To move on.  To accept that it happened and we are coming out better for it.  I can imagine what you are all thinking, "How bad could it be?"  Not that bad, right?  I mean, we survived, as did most of our stuff. 

I wrote the top half of this post over a year ago.  Re-reading it today, I'm stunned.  So much has changed in the past year and yet still, not much progress has been made.  Most days, I feel like I am treading water.  But I suppose I am moving forward, ever so slowly, at a snails pace.

I have a new job. And its sort of my dream job in fact.  I am working at Shipwreck Beads and at the beginning of April, I moved from the shipping department to a brand new position that was created for me.  Thats right, I am now the Social Media Coordinator. I am writing our blog, Loose Ends.  I also manage our Facebook and Pinterest and other online accounts.  Every single day I am stunned that I am actually getting paid to do this.  I get to bead and put together tutorials.  Its almost unreal.

Blogging for the store makes me realize how much I miss blogging for myself.  I miss writing and sharing. Being introspective and sharing parts of myself I have completely neglected.  So here I am, moving forward. Progress will be made. I'm committed to being a better person. A better mother. A better blogger.  Pretty much just a better me.  It feels good to be back. Although, I suppose I never really left.

Its Not So Bad Afterall

I feel so lucky for everything in my life right now.

And for the first time in a really long time

I feel like I am truly and genuinely

HAPPY.

*source*

Of course, let me say that right now we are in a tougher spot financially than we have ever been.  With the move and the fire and the cost to "rebuild" our lives; its been really really tough.  We are struggling.

But I'm not worried.  Because I am confident we are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing.  My health is improving, I think its been over a month since I had a major panic attack WHOO HOO! New meds, new environment, new outlook on life.

I feel good.

I know this rough patch is temporary. We are saving so much money! Living on this side of town, Steve is able to bike and ride the bus to work. We cut our gas bill in half.  No more furnace. Water, sewer, and garbage included. A smaller yard. Family activities within walking distance. It just all feels better.  And with no computer, that means no paying for Internet, X-box live and Netflix. Although, I really miss Netflix!!!

Am I stressed? Yup.

Am I sad? Sometimes more, sometimes less.

As I unpack what we did get out, I feel overcome by happiness.  Each box contains something I thought was lost forever. In each box a little miracle.  But as the boxes dwindle, I am faced with the realization that there is so much we still do not have.  Each box is a reminder of what was destroyed.  As the number of boxes grow smaller, so do the little miracles.  The treasures. 

This weekend I found a box of Goose's coats that I thought were all left at the old house. And as I unpacked her boxes, I remembered her coat rack was still mounted to the wall outside her bedroom, with coats and pictures still on it.

I went through my scrapbooks and cried.

I remembered all of the large professional portraits we never had framed. They were still "safely" in their envelopes in my old craft room.  Saw remnants of Molly on nearly every page... a solitary hair clinging between the pages.  I didn't wipe them away. 

Hubs told me he felt the same way about the smell of our couch.

Musty old dog. Yum.

Okay, not really, but still Molly.

I had her first and last collar saved in my bedroom.

But they weren't "saved"

It kills me to think she is still at that old house, all alone.

But I have her leash. And some chew toys.

And a few stray hairs.

And a stinky couch..

It's quite a contradicting life I am living right now.

So happy and peaceful and yet so sad and stressful at the same time.

It's somewhat of a balancing act, but this time I'm not afraid to fall.

I'm not scared to be sad.

The stressful feeling isn't overwhelming.

I feel like I am dealing, transitioning, re-establishing who I really want to be.

Who I really AM.

I am setting some big goals.

And for the first time (in a really long time)

I feel like I'm going to complete them.

And not just that...

I am going to blow every one out of the water.

Quoteable

蔵焼けて * 障るものなき * 月見哉

kura yakete sawaru mono naki tsukimi kana

source

Barn's burnt down

now

I can see the moon.

~Mashide

 

source

"Ever since my house burned down,

I can see the moon more clearly."

~Gregory Colbert, Ashes and Snow

source

Postlapsaria

Postlapsaria:

after the fall/after the destruction

You will find beauty is still possible.

I borrowed my title from Keiko-Lynn.

I thought it was fitting for the photos.

Little Miracles (Lost and Found)

Steve and I were finally able to get into the old house this weekend.

Seeing the devastation first hand was pretty overwhelming.

My craft room was in the living room - it used to be the attic.

Ribbons and papers, singed and melted and burned, littered the floor.

But we went into the bedrooms and dug around in the soot and ash.

There were no lights so Hubs was using a lighter and I had my cell phone.

In Goose's room, in her closet, Steve found her time capsule.

I was convinced it was in storage upstairs.

He found it.

The box was completely black, and some of the contents were melted.

But the letters, the cards, the irreplacable keepsakes, they were all okay.

It was in a cardboard box I covered in contact paper.

If not for the contact paper, I'm sure it would have burned.

Next,

I found Goose's baby china.  The bag was falling apart. The box they were packed in was chared. But the china, still wrapped in untouched white tissue paper, was safe. 

::happydance::

Then we went into our bedroom.

Man, that was hard. 

But my nightstand, though badly burned, was still standing.

Hope.

Steve kicked in the drawers and I found two small jewlry boxes, both blackened.

But the jewelry inside?

My pearl earrings from my dad, my grandma's ring, the first ring Hubs ever gave me, and one half of the second pair of diamond earrings from Hubs... (I'm not allowed to have any more diamond earrings.  I lose them) all untouched.

Even my jewlry box on top of my nightstand was still standing, though not intact.

I picked up the disintigrating pile that was my jewelry box and took it out side.

I was surprised that I actually found many things untouched.

The coral and diamond ring that my Great-grandmother from Japan gave me when we visited my senior year of high school.  The coral was blackened, but it cleaned up well.

For my first Mother's day, my mother in law made an imprint of Goose's hand the day she was born and cast it in silver. 

They were safe.

And in the bathroom, in the ashes, I even found a couple of charms from Goose's charm bracelet.  My mom bought her a bracelet and has been buying her charms for it.  I didn't find them all, but considering how terrible the bathroom looked, I am thankful to find what I did. 

It's so amazing to me, that many of the possessions we were so upset about losing were found, and safe, undamaged no less. 

I continue to feel so blessed and lucky.

I thank everyone who has reached out to help us.

I don't think there are enough words to say how much.

God has smiled on us and he is giving us some bright spots to get through this hard time.

So very many thanks.

I don't care about the things I lost, I care about the things I have.

ETA - Also, while unpacking, I found the Rad Jacket and my angel collection.

I'm finding lots of other random, less important stuff as I unpack.

Once we are done unpacking, I'm sure I will be hit by the full magnitude of what was lost.

But for now, it's time to take it day by day and just be thankful for every breath we take.

In Memoriam

*source*

Casualties of the Fire

Wedding china. Set of silver. Kitchen appliances. Dining table/chairs. Pots and pans. Rice cooker. Two computers. 5 years worth of digital photos. Music. So. Much. Music. Birth certificates. Social security cards. Big screen TV. Miscellaneous serving platters/kitchen items. Pyrex casserole dishes.  Antique hutch. Clothes. Towels. Goose's shoes. Goose's collectors dishes from Tiffany's that were a gift when she was born. Signed Ashley Force Barbie. HP printer. Nail polish. 6 bottles of collectible Marilyn Merlot wine. Ephemera and other random craft stuff. Vintage button collection. All of my ribbon. Vintage sewing basket with needles, thread, scissors and vintage notions. Scrapbook paper. Sewing machine. Snow board. Hub's collectible soccer cleats. Most of his pants. Jackets. 10 years worth of holiday decorations. High school yearbooks. Photo albums from middle school and before. The necklace I was given by Goose for my first Christmas as a mommy. My first mother's day gift. The pearl and diamond earrings my dad gave me for HS graduation. A couch. King size sleep number bed. Crib/toddler bed. Luggage/suitcases. Bathing suits. The first scrapbook I ever made, for Steve, Baby stuff I was saving. Iron & ironing board. All my Stickles. Glimmer mist. Paper punches (not sure which ones...) Paint and brushes. Goose's art supplies. Her art table. Vintage costume jewelry. Make-up. Everything in the medicine cabinet. Vacuum cleaner. Jewelry box. Goose's charm bracelet from Grandma and charms. Goose's first Pooh Bear "piggy" bank. Molly's first and last dog collar.  Marital aids. The Rad Jacket. Matching TV and entertainment stand. Computer desk. Camera charger. USB and CD backups. Book shelves. Art work, purchased and created. Magnets and fridge artwork. Other "stuff." Corduroy pencil skirt. Jean pencil skirt. Chocolate brown scarf. Goose's socks. Marilyn Monroe train case. Needle felting supplies. Beads and beading supplies. Commemorative cake knife from our wedding. Professional portraits. Time capsule, to be opened on Goose's 16th birthday. Couch. Art notebook.

(I'm sure this list will continue to grow. Every time I stop and think, I can add more and more to the list. And I'm still unpacking what we did move, so I'm still not 100% on what we still have.)

Thank God it was all just STUFF.

No, I'm not materialistic, I'm mourning.

I know it was all just stuff and I am so grateful for everything we have.

But, yeah... I am sad about the things we lost.

So many meaningful and important things gone.

I have my memories.
I have my scrapbooks.

I have my family.

I have everything important.

Lucky

I can't stop feeling so lucky and blessed by this whole situation.

Maybe it sounds strange.

*source*

If you are a regular reader, you know I have been trying to find my faith, struggling with the meaning of it all. Looking for answers. I don't know what I was expecting to find, but I wasn't finding it. At least, I didn't think I was.

This might sound weird, but I feel lucky that this fire happened to us. It could happen any time, to anyone and it happened to us Monday morning.  And I am so thankful it wasn't someone else.  I guess, if your house is going to go up in flames, it really couldn't have happened at a better time.  Yes, there were valubles lost, but nothing that can't be replaced.  I'm sad about the computers and the photos, but I'm thankful I blog. Because I have so many pics saved on my blog and on Photobucket. 

It could happen to anyone and it didn't, it happened to us.  We weren't there. Our important possessions were out of the house. We made it out with a lot more than just the clothes on our backs. And if the worst of the situation is that we lost everything in the kitchen and some electronics, I say that's pretty good. 

We also have such an amazing support system around us.  Steve's parents, my parents, friends have all stepped up to give us a hand in any way possible.  We have a roof over our heads. 

I keep thinking about the events leading up to us moving out and I know things were meant to be. 

We weren't supposed to be there.

In the begining of April I first saw our new house.  I took a picture on my cell phone, told Steve I wanted to move and called the landlord the next day. A few days later, we were looking at the place and putting down a deposit.  When we signed the lease, the landlord told us she had recieved so many calls on the property.  They had even shown it to one other family who desperately wanted it, but we got there first.  And it was ours. 

We got the keys on May 15th and were supposed to be out of our old place on the 31st.  We spent nearly all of last weekend packing and moving, Goose stayed with Grandma.  Saturday night was the first time we had slept at the new house.  Sunday, Hubs and I debated whether or not we should sleep at the old house or new house.  Our beds were in the old house, but most of our stuff was in the new house. 

We decided to sleep on couches.

We stopped at the old house Sunday night for a few minutes. Grabbed Goose's books, bathroom stuff for us, phone chargers.  Just the necessary stuff for the next day.  Both Steve and I made a sweep of the house and made sure everthing was turned off and unplugged.  Then, we left. For the last time. We were there not even 15 minutes. 

And now, it all seems so clear.  What I was doing wrong, in my life and my expectations.  I know that God was talking to me and I just didn't know what to listen for.  Except, that it's very easy to see now that I was listening and taking his direction.

We weren't supposed to be there.

And because I followed my gut. 

Because I wanted the new house.

We weren't there.

We also get a chance to start over. Start fresh. Re-evaluate, re-assess, and re-prioritize. Decisions we didn't want to make were made for us in that instant and we are forced to start over.  I feel kind of like the Phoenix (Marvel geek reference) rising from the flames.  Not many people get to start over like this. It's a little liberating, I must say.  The clutter of our former selves is gone, with room to start fresh.

I no longer question the road I need to take.

I see it now.

Clearly.

It seems so simple, so easy.

But I wasn't ready before.

And now, I am.

We Sleep on Couches

I got a call early on Monday morning.

It was a woman's voice, calling from the Fire Dept.

She wanted to know if we were okay.

Our house was on fire.

Not our new house.

The one we just moved out of.

That very weekend.

Sunday night had been the second night we slept there.

Steve had just told Goose that she never had to sleep in the old house ever again.

We even made the news.

Although, not for any reason I would have liked.

Looking in the front entry, into the living room.

The side of the house, also looking into the living room.

There used to be a second story... its now in the living room.

This picture and the next one haunt me most.

They are the bedrooms.

What if we had been there?

What if?

What if?

So many "what ifs"?

We still had not moved our beds, the big screen, or the computers.

There was still lots of stuff in storage in the attic.

Everything in the kitchen and bathroom was lost.

There are no more magnets or artwork on my fridge.

But the scrapbooks are safe.

And so is the camera.

And most importantly,

Steve, Goose and I are safe.

We weren't there.

Everything lost was just stuff.

(I am still devastated, I even have an "In Memoriam" post planned.)

But we are blessed. We got SO lucky.

I have been counting my many blessings.

Hugging my daughter tighter.

Sending love to everyone I know.

Because they have all stepped up to give us a hand.

I feel so very lucky.

Except for the fact that we will be sleeping on our couch for a while.