During the fire, I was walking back from the woods toward the island that was full of trucks and ambulances and fire hoses. A friend who was there asked me if it was traumatizing to see those lights and trucks in my front yard.
That was an easy answer. Not at all, actually.
Growing up, my dad would occasionally stop by the house to grab something while en route back to the station (that was less than a mile from home) from a call. Seeing a fire truck out front was the BEST, because it meant my dad was home unexpectedly during a shift. He’d come in, wearing stinky turnouts, I’d get a hug and he’d be on his way.
But it occurred to me that my feelings of peace and safety from seeing fire trucks in my driveway are not the same as what my children and friends who were at the fire with me might be experiencing, because they do not have the associated memories of security and normalcy that I do.
Right before Christmas Day, Aaron had to go into work and I had a dozen errands to run to get us settled into the rental house, ready for Christmas, and a meeting with the restoration company who was at the house taking inventory of everything we own (and then throwing it away, without me there).
Add to this pre holiday/post disaster madness a layer of “what do I do about this?!” Mom-worry as the older children started exhibiting symptoms of post traumatic stress and anxiety. I need to be home to help them regulate! No! I need to run these errands so we can have stability and they can recover! I need to be in both places! I’m still wearing borrowed underwear! I need to switch utilities into our name! I need to have one on one time with _____! I need to sleep! No! I need to go buy a fire extinguisher and new lock box for our meds so we can pass licensing in the rental house for DCFS! I need to wrap Christmas gifts! I need Aaron! No! Aaron needs to be at work! I need to call the insurance adjuster about the claim before I sign papers for the contractor! I need to interview the contractor! I need to change into muck clothes and go to the find my temple bag! No! I need to stay here and feed everyone lunch! I need to help the kids who are crying. I need to clone myself!
Kasey and Jimmie swooped in at just the right time. The had the kids over for a cookie baking play date. It was such a gift for the kids, and so nice for me to be able to run my errands in hyperspeed. We met back up after a bit and took cookies to the firefighters who responded to our house fire.
Jimmie aka Ron Swanson taught Corbin how to be a man on their play date. 😂 they shot a slingshot, built a fire, cut wood with a saw, and shined some shoes. It’s only a matter of time before welding, arm wrestling, and beard maintenance become part of the Art of Manliness lessons with Jimmie series. Corbin loved it.
This was what was needed.
They let the kids climb on the trucks, which seemed to ease some nerves that had accumulated after seeing the trucks at the house. We thanked them for working the holidays, for responding to the 9-1-1 dispatch to our house so quickly, for trying to save our home, and for bravely doing what they do every day.
The kids needed to serve others, to process trauma, to be somewhere homey and familiar, and to do something traditional and “Christmasey”. Thank you Kasey and Jimmie for lighting our world!
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