Two weeks ago we experienced something I would never wish on anyone. A house fire. Our house is a three bedroom, two bath double wide. Right behind it sits a studio building that is about 600 square feet. A few years ago we repurposed the once music recording studio, and made it into a rec room, art space and sewing area. It also had beds for the kids. On a Friday afternoon while I was sitting at the computer at work, I got a call from J. He calmly told me the studio caught on fire and was destroyed. I shrieked out loud and spent some time trying to handle my shock and emotions. I maintained a strange balance between staying calm and freaking out in front of my co-workers. I finished up my newsletter publication and headed home in a rush. I came home to find J, L and C. I felt thankful that the 13 or more emergency responders had left and it was just us left to deal with the aftermath of a very hot electrical fire. So many thoughts were going through my head. I was grateful no one was home or hurt. I was sad for the kids who lost the majority of their possessions. I was curious how my trauma affected children would react to this traumatic event. I was fearful, worried and a huge ball of emotions. We dealt with the insurance company the best we could on a Friday afternoon and tried to go back to as much normalcy as we possibly could that weekend.
To be continued.