Monday, November 23, 2015

Wednesday

I was driving to work this morning for the first time in three days. I was following a diesel truck. I thought I was going to throw-up. The smell was nauseating and I couldn't seem to shake that cold feeling I got when I smelled the fumes. It stayed with me.. I will never forget that smell.

See, on Wednesday I arrived to work at 8 a.m., turned on my computer, and began going through the three-inch pile of paper on my desk from Tuesday.  I saw a couple missed calls from my neighbor, and while he doesn't call often, I figured I would call him on my lunch break, but he called again, so I answered.

Neighbor:  Marissa? You should probably come back this way. Your house is on fire.
Me:  What?
Neighbor:  You need to come back to Clearfield, your house is on fire.
Me frantically:  On my way.

So there in lies the beginning of a nightmare. Every home owner's worst fear...every pet owner's worst fear: A fire in the house.

I work an hour & a half away.  By the time I pulled into my driveway, the fire crew was primarily gone except one or two remaining firefighters waiting for me and watching that the fire didn't rekindle. 

I didn't even have to walk into the house to smell the odor of smoke and water mixed with melted plastic, wood, dry wall, and whatever else was in the fire's path. As I walked into the kitchen, I couldn't even believe it was my house. My home. My safe haven.  It was covered in soot from top to bottom as if someone took a printer cartridge and sprayed it over the entire circumference of the room. Broken pieces of plates and glass lay about the blackened, curled linoleum floor.  There were things scattered everywhere as if a hurricane had taken place.

Beyond the kitchen we walked into the living room – the point of the fire.  To say that I was devastated would be an understatement.  My bay window had completely blown out and glass was laying everywhere on charred remnants of furniture and floor.  The stuffing in my couch appeared to have been shot out of a cannon.  The couch must have exploded, or the outlet behind the wall did based on the amount of stuffing strewn about throughout the room.

I glanced around the walls... blackened and peeled.  There were holes in the ceiling where the fire crew busted through so they can see if the fire had risen to the crawl-space attic. The blades of my ceiling fan lay burned in small pieces of wood on the floor, leaving nothing but the metal tips next to the scorched motor.

The smoke and water damage trailed down the hallway into the laundry room and bathroom.  The exhaust fan above the shower had been ripped out of the ceiling in the bathroom as well to check for fire above. I noticed how black the roof looked, and realized that will probably need to be replaced as well.  Habitually, I opened the medicine cabinet, thinking that I will see my toothpaste bottles and toothbrush safe and secure behind the magnetic mirrors.  All the contents inside were covered in several thick layers of black powder and dust.

At this point the odor of smoke, along with everything combined, was starting to make me sick to my stomach.  The back two rooms had their doors shut when I left that morning, and while damage was minor to the rooms, all items were destroyed by smoke damage.

I walked back out the living room and looked around in shock.. disbelief.  

How can this happen so fast? 
I was only gone for a couple of hours. 
Nothing was on – no candles, burners, space heaters, etc.  Nothing.  

I was told that the fire was electrical and started in the wall due to old wiring.

I looked at all my “stuff”, at all the things I owned and thought of all the money spent on them. Wasted. 

... the movies I couldn’t wait to buy once they came out on Blu-ray … 
melted and water drenched…

…the hundreds of school books I had accumulated so I could begin my dissertation process within a few months…
sticking together with smeared lettering, wet pages, and charred covers….

… the Calvin Klein travel bag with melted wheels, the Jimmy Choo tote that I recently bought because “I deserved it” in a pile of mud and water…

… my Star Trek collection, many of which had sentimental meaning... burnt to ashes, or stained with the pungent odor of smoke...

And I thought to myself… in an instant.. in a blink of an eye.. everything we “want” is gone.  All material possessions… everything… can be taken away by a storm, a flood… a fire…

And I immediately felt a peace come over me because while I lost everything (including a dearly loved pet) in the fire, I had my family and friends who rushed to be by my side as I cried or stood speechless.  My family and friends who put together their last dimes so that I could begin to rebuild my life again. 

I am beyond humbled by the amount of strangers who have walked  up to me and hugged me with tears in their eyes over the loss of my beautiful cat, Roxy or over the sadness of the holiday season upon us, or over the fact that they’ve been where I am.. and it brings back that feeling like it was like yesterday.

And I think of all that wasted money on stuff.  And I think of where that money should have gone.

To another person with a fire.
To that girl with cancer.
To that boy in the car accident.
To that man that needs a liver transplant.
To the disabled woman who wants nothing more than to work.
To the single dad with three jobs raising his daughter.
To the woman taking care of her dying mother.

Because even though you can't see these things... I know they won't burn in a house fire.  These things help other people. These things uplift the spirit. Give hope to the hopeless, and help the lost find another step in their path.

My friends, NOTHING lasts forever here.  Our possessions mean nothing. They bring us no value or worth.  They are items on a shelf, picked up here and there, and placed back until you notice them again.  Nothing is permanent here.  It can be taken away just as easily as it can be obtained.  I am so thankful that there will someday be a place where our “treasures” can never be destroyed, where we will never feel the heartache of burying a loved one, or the sadness of finding a perished pet in the ashes because she couldn’t escape the smoke and flames.  Until then, I have decided that I don’t need a lot, just the company of others, the uplifting encouragement of friends, the kind spirit of a stranger, the touch of a loved one... and I plan to be those things as well.

In this world of sadness and darkness, I truly believe all we need is a little more love and little less stuff.


"Don't store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be. Matthew 6: 19-21