We had a house fire at the beginning of August.
People are fine, pets are fine - we were lucky to be home when it happened. Smoke alarm went off, I ran upstairs and opened the door to the Eldest's room and it was full of smoke and flames. Savageman called 911, I put the pets outside and got the extinguisher. The 911 operator said not to try to put it out - to just close the door and leave. So that's what we did. I grabbed the laptops on the way out, but that was all.
Waiting for the fire department (departments as it turned out - 8 companies showed up), was the worst part. Not knowing what was happening, not knowing if it was spreading next door to Middle's room, which is wallpapered with his own original favorite artwork, not knowing how much smoke damage was happening to the rest of our bedrooms and belongings.... It seemed like an eternity.
It didn't take them long to put the fire out. They said that, with the door shut and the outer panes of the windows still intact (the inner panes broke), the fire had lost oxygen and was dying down.
They carried out the Eldest's beautiful (and expensive) acoustic guitar, his 18th birthday present from us. He had fallen in love with it when he picked it up and we knew we weren't leaving the store without it. It suddenly was all too real. I felt like I had been punched in the gut.
A few minutes later, he called, wondering why he couldn't turn on to our street. We had to tell him and when the fire police let him through, he sat on the lawn and cried. It was heartbreaking. His room was his refuge, his one space that he controlled, and now it was gone, along with a lot of his stuff.
The cause was a power strip, which happened to be sitting on a plastic bin when it ignited, so the air was thick with the smell of melted plastic. Fortunately, it was a nice day (and turned out to be a nice month) so the windows could be open and the place aired out. Over the next few days, none of us slept upstairs. Savageman and I crashed on the couch, Little at the grandparents, and the Eldest started at a friend's and wound up in a hotel, thanks to some great insurance. The fire restoration people spent days tearing out the walls, ceiling and floor, deep cleaning the upstairs, the ductwork, all the clothing, bedding, rugs, curtains, etc. They inventoried all the damaged property. Next week begins the rebuild and restoration.
Considering how bad it could have been, we're feeling pretty fortunate. No one was hurt, and the stuff is being replaced. Life is getting back to normal, or perhaps a better version of normal. The Eldest liked living on his own so much, he agreed to move out and get his own place, which has been a long time coming anyway. Middle came home for a week, but then went back to start his fall semester at Penn State. Little started high school and has asked if we can put fitness equipment in the new room we'll have. Moving the martial arts gis and mats, etc up there has opened up space in the rest of the house, so it was probably a better choice than a guest room or office would have been.
Trying to focus on the silver linings rather than the hassle this has all been and the destruction and mess. Which is a good exercise for life in general.
