I marvel at the concept of time passed. I often find myself saying, "Five years ago, who would've thought [insert comment of choice here]?" I guess I am a person who reminisces about things. Yesterday I found myself recalling that, in addition to being my dear friend Zen's birthday, it was the sixth anniversary of our house fire. Now here we go, "Seven years ago, who would've thought I would experience our home burning down?"
What a rollercoaster ride that was! I never thought I would find myself tired of shopping. But, trying to replace a houseful of items is exhausting. To this day, I have yet to replace the potato-masher. "Who would've thought that six years after the fire I still wouldn't have a potato-masher?" I guess necessities like toothbrushes and deodorant take precedent in such situations and the hand mixer works just fine for whipping up fluffy potatoes.
On this day, six years ago, I was helping to pack up anything that could be salvaged. I was wearing an outfit by Walmart and I was happy. Yes, happy! I was happy because my friends and family surrounded me. Without a trace of hesitation, they joined in the efforts to pack up our sparse possessions. I was happy for my husband. I was happy he had the fortitude to investigate the smoke as I had already given myself over to the extreme tiredness that accompanies the intake of carbon monoxide. I was happy for my pets. Every four-legged critter was evacuated with calmness, because we thought the fire was a tiny thing and, again, I was pumped full of carbon monoxide and NyQuil (what a horrid cocktail!). And, I was happy for insurance! After the shock began to fade and I took in the whole scene I realized that the brown shag carpet was history thanks to the call of a total loss by the insurance company.
Six years later here I sit. Now the mother of two; with a missing uterus; with one dog less and two cats more; with a rebuilt home; with a greater sense of purpose but still no clear vision for the future; with still a very happy heart. "Who would've thought?"