It was a regular Friday afternoon — August 25, 2017, to be exact. My family had enjoyed a great summer together and was returning to a more scheduled routine with the kids back in school (my daughter, away in college and my son, in his senior year in high school). Every Friday afternoon, my husband treats himself to a tennis workout, so he was there.
I was home alone with our two dogs. I sat at my desk, working on the sequel to Pennies from Burger Heaven when our smoke alarm rang out at 4 p.m. I walked through my house and saw …
Nothing.
No smoke. No fire. No burning smell.
It was bizarre. I stood staring like a fool as the hallway alarm screamed. What could possibly be wrong?
I phoned my husband. “Should I call 911?”
“I guess so,” he said.
I didn’t. I thought the batteries had a short in them.
The Heroes of Our Story
I walked into our den where Nick, the laziest pug in the world, is usually sound asleep on the couch.
Instead, he stood frozen in the den, his back arched and his eyes fixed toward our kitchen and backyard.
“What’s wrong, Nick?” I asked.
He ignored me.
“Let’s go check on Gypsy.”
We walked through the kitchen, then on outside. Our yellow Labrador retriever was running laps around the backyard. She’s always hyper, so I didn’t think much about it. “What’s wrong, Gypsy?”
She raced faster, so I stepped further onto the grass and turned to our house. That’s when I saw it.
Smoke rising off our roof like a hazy mist.
I whipped out my phone and called 911. It’d been THREE MINUTES since the smoke alarm first went off.
I gathered the dogs, while I gave the 911 dispatcher my home address and other information, but I still didn’t see any fire inside, or smell smoke.
The first thing I grabbed was my laptop (Hello? Writer here!). As I hurried back through the kitchen with the dogs, a flame shot out from the exhaust fan built into our ceiling.
I jumped. This nightmare just got real.
At some point, I texted my husband to get home ASAP. Next, I dug out our fireproof safe from its hiding spot. No, I didn’t leave it there to verify if it really works because it holds our birth certificates, social security cards, passports and wills.
I was still on the 911 call when my doorbell rang and a police officer stood on my porch. The dogs rushed out (of course, I forgot leashes). I left, too, not knowing I was leaving our home forever. Firetrucks came from both directions.
Nick the pug stayed glued beside me, while Gypsy ran around greeting everyone. I had to keep whistling for her to come back.
A Special Kind of Hell
Two police cars blocked off either end of my street. A total of five firetrucks came and they moved in full force. Now, when I hear any kind of siren, my gut clenches because I know that someone has had their life turned upside down.
As I stood by our big elm tree out front, I tried to tell myself it wasn’t that bad. There weren’t any flames. Just smoke. I remembered so many items I wished I had grabbed from inside: my purse, our photographs, our four Christmas stockings that my mother and I needlepointed for my family.
My seventeen-year-old son came galloping up to me from the police barricade. He’s a giant man-child at 6′ 4″, but his eyes were shiny scared that afternoon. I’m sure they mirrored mine. He took our Lab to a friend’s house to get her out of the way. Nick the pug wouldn’t leave my side.
My husband arrived. Together, we watched our house smolder. The fire marshals said the fire started in the attic with that kitchen exhaust fan, which had been running (where I saw the tiny flame). They contained the fire to the attic and extinguished it in no time, but the smoke and water damage were severe. Blackmon Mooring swooped in to stop the destruction.
An Inhabitable House
Once we were allowed back inside, our eyes burned from all the smoke. My husband, son and I had to pack our bags to leave ASAP. Our insurance offered to put us up at some long-term motel on the interstate, but fortunately, my in-laws have a beautiful cabin 20 minutes outside of town. We moved there, while Blackmon Mooring removed every single item from the house to send to a smoke restoration center out of town: our clothes, our furniture, everything that makes a house a home.
Over the next few weeks, they tore out the ceiling in each room of our 3,000 square foot house. They pulled up the flooring in three rooms. They ripped my kitchen down to the studs. It physically hurt to see the systematic destruction of our lives.
Plus, I felt so displaced, so vulnerable, so lost. I didn’t post about the fire on social media because I couldn’t talk about it without crying. I needed time to process. I needed time to grieve. This part is so much more traumatic than the fire itself.
A Wonderful Escape
We watch gorgeous sunsets every night and often wake up to deer in our front yard. It’s GORGEOUS. My husband and I have learned we enjoy the slower pace of country living. It’s been a healing oasis since my family already loves this cabin, and has spent a great deal of time here over the years.
No Place like Home
It’s a long story, but it’s now looking like we may never move back into that house again. Professionals have said that even if we add our money to what insurance gives us (and we’re still haggling there), it’s doubtful that we’d recoup our investment later.
It’d be smarter to either tear down our house and rebuild a new one, or move elsewhere. We’ll be empty nesters with both kids gone to college this time next year, so we don’t need a BIGGER house. We’d rather downsize. We could sell the lot and move somewhere else. We could move to a whole new city! There are so many unknowns it’s overwhelming.
It’s weird to think that after 17 years, I’ll never spend another night in my home.
Strange Blessings
Despite all the stress we’re facing these days, my husband and I are doing better than ever. Make no mistake, I’d give anything to go home and to make Mickey Mouse waffles for my family in MY kitchen.
That’s never going to happen. Still, this fire has our full attention. We’re trying to see it as a blessing in disguise and to really ponder, WHAT’S NEXT for us as a couple. As dislocated as I feel, I’m also more deeply connected to my faith because I’m spending so much time in prayer these days.
There are also so many small moments that I’m both noticing and appreciating on a whole new level: the sunflowers in my front yard, a text from a friend checking on me, a cup of hot tea with my husband. Before, I was just so BIZZZZZZZY to observe much of anything.
The fire has also made my writing COME ALIVE. The next Copper Daniels novel WILL be published in 2018. It feels wonderful to do something from my old life, something that makes me feel like ME.
An Attitude of Gratitude
Every day, I have a choice. We all do. We can wallow in negativity, or try to find the positive in our current circumstances. No matter how small. Yes, I’m still grieving the loss of my house. Yes, I’m still angry sometimes that this happened at all, but I make a concerted effort to keep finding my way back to gratitude.
1. I’m grateful the fire happened at 4 p.m. and not 4 a.m.
2. I’m grateful it was me home alone, and not one of my teenagers (it would’ve traumatized them).
3. I’m grateful that ANYONE was home, or we would have lost everything.
4. I’m grateful for family and friends who’ve wrapped us in their love.
5. I’m grateful for my father-in-law who’s letting us stay in his amazing cabin.
6. I’m grateful to my mom who lets me call and whine about all this 24/7.
7. I’m grateful we watch amazing sunsets every night and wake up to deer in our yard.
8. I’m grateful for the slower pace of living out in the country.
9. I’m grateful for the small moments I’m noticing so much more now.
10. I’m grateful for my husband’s strength and ability to make me laugh. No. Matter. What.
The Future
I’ll keep you posted on the progress of our house. I don’t know what tomorrow holds for my family, but I look forward to how this story unfolds.
What advice do you have for me in dealing with this fire?
Please leave comment. Let’s talk.
Pick up your FREE copy today of the mystery, The Moon Rises at Dawn (SkipJack Publishing). Read, enjoy, repeat.
11. I’m greatful you are all ok. Much love to you all.
12. I’m so grateful for friends like YOU who make me smile. THANK YOU. This too shall pass…
M3, I am so sorry you find yourself and your family displaced. It hurts my heart that you have lost your home.
I am grateful that no life was lost. Things can be replaced. Canadian suffered horrible wildfires this spring and the loss of life was nightmarish. People , cattle and wildlife. Fire terrifies me.
But nature shows us miracles. With the rains came fresh green grass and beautiful wild flowers. I hope in your recovery you find a fresh start. I pray for a beautiful new beginning. Much Love,
Kelley Cooper-Cameron
You, my amazing friend, are one of, if not the strongest woman I know. And although physical distance separates us, please know you’re held so close in my heart. You always have been, but more so now. You and your family will get through this, and be even stronger. I’m so grateful for all of you being in my life <3
What a lovely thing to say. Here’s another instance where the internet has been a powerful tool. I’ve heard from friends in Europe, Mexico City and Canada. We’re truly feeling loved from around the world. Thanks, EmFairley!
Thank you!
Sweet Jesus, Marcy. I am so, so sorry. I had no idea. And I’m not even sure what to say. I’m glad you and your family (including the pups!) are OK. I know that’s what ultimately matters, but still. Thinking of you. xoxox
Sweet Jesus is right. I have really strong moments (like writing this post), then I have really I’m a Gawd-awful mess moments. #1 I’m most grateful that my family is okay, and the rest is just STUFF. However, that STUFF was home for 17 years, and I’m allowing myself to grieve that loss. Thanks for your thoughts. xoxoxoxo
Beautiful attitude, Marcy. You guys are amazing.
Thanks, Anne. You know there’s also been plenty of F bombs and other colorful language along the way, but I am impressed with how we’re weathering this storm. Much love. m3
My sympathies for what you have been through. By any standards, it counts as a traumatic event. Whilst I admire and applaud your ability to find positives amongst the ashes, and know that your ability to write about it is a Good Thing that can help with healing, don’t underestimate the long-term effects and the possibility that you may need professional counselling at some point. The brain is great at playing tricks on us, sometimes years after something bad has happened (PTSD). I wish you well on your new journey.
Thanks, Henry. I’ve definitely that about that fact. Like I said in my post, I’m totally jumpy around sirens now + it HURRRRRTS me to be in that house. I hear the smoke alarm ringing in my head and my heart starts racing. Therapy saved me in my 20’s. I may very well go back. THANK YOU for bringing up this important point.
Oh my dear friend! I’m so sorry for this upheaval. You are right, though, that eventually, you will see this as an important moment of blessing to your family. But until then, the feelings you describe are so understandable and valid. I suspect it will take a lot of time to process them, and mourn. Lean on those you love and those who offer to help.
When I was 25, after being married a month, my new husband and I were on vacation visiting his parents when the Oakland Hills fire of 1991 completely consumed our apartment. We had no insurance, lost everything (including every scrap of anything I had ever written), and had to start completely fresh. Though I was spared the frightening moments of being near the fire when it happened, the trauma of that event still hangs with me, a lifetime of a sort of amnesia, not having not much to look back on from my past. I am still grateful for the generosity of those who cared about us, coworkers who brought us sets of dishes and bags of clothes, a high school friend who made a special request from our high school for replacement yearbooks.
The biggest blessing for me has been the skill to let go of material things, to keep in perspective what and who is truly important. Sounds like you’re on the right track with that lesson already. And as time passes, after decisions are made, and you and your family get settled in to a new normal, new memories and traditions will grow and fill some of the void you feel.
I loved reading that you’re slowing down to appreciate your surroundings and that your writing is going well. As a fellow writer and a fan of your work, that makes me very very happy.
Sending you hugs! Love, Meg
Ahhh, Meg. Everything you shared was so beautifully written, and really spoke to my heart. Thank you!
I HATE that you’ve been through this and that you had no insurance. Thanks heavens we’re getting help there. Fortunately, I’ve never been one of those people who gained their identity from their home, so that’s a blessing.
We’re still walking our way through this mess and there’s plenty of good + bad. We’re just trying to be present for it all. I sooooo appreciate your comment. You’ve brightened my day.
Hi Marcy, I met you and your family in Tronconnes. Sorry to hear about this but very grateful that your all ok! ❤ God Bless.
Nicole
Hi Nicole! Thanks for jogging my memory. I TOTALLY remember you + all the cool yoga ladies. OMG. I’d give anything to escape there right now. Still, we were are okay for what matters most (health and overall wellness). Mark and I are just trying to figure out where to live now that we’re being forced to grow up. 🙂
Years ago, after 25 years of marriage, I went thru a brutal divorce. Now, from the backside, I can see the positives in that experience. The best analogy for me is that of a renewal fire. Fire has been nature’s renewal system since the beginning. The great Yellowstone fire of 1988 is a wonderful example. Fire turned the park into a black skeleton of its former self. The very next spring the ashes became fertilizer for new growth. What had been dense forest became rich meadows for grazing animals. Shrubs and flowers blanketed the black hillsides. There is a variety of conifer whose seeds only germinate after a fire and those seedlings were coming up everywhere. And the best part, the forest service discovered hundreds of thermal events that had been hidden by the dense forest.
You have the most important parts of your life intact. You will always cherish your home and the memories that live in your heart. But, God has given you a gift in cutting you free to grow in a different direction.
The new choices may be the scariest choices. For the first time in forever, you get to choose the next direction. Maybe buy a RV and travel for a few years. Maybe resettle somewhere else for a year and then move again until you tire of that. Maybe invest in a small condo in several different locals and migrate as desired. Maybe put a smaller, retirement friendly home on your old lot (re-sale is not the only value to consider)
It will take a while, but you will grow to embrace your new life. It wasn’t your choice to be here, but here you are!
Janet,
Your words were SO PERFECT that they made me cry (in the best way possible). You understand 100% what I’m talking about and a divorce is a 1,000 worse than a fire. I love the idea of us rises from the ashes like a phoenix.
God IS definitely nudging us in a new direction. It’s both thrilling and terrifying, but your comment fills me with such HOPE!
THANK YOU!
Yes a house fire is devastating and traumatic but thankfully your family and pets are safe. The house and contents are only stuff and most of it can be replaced. You may find that the loss of all that stuff liberating and realize you can be okay with less. Keep moving forward and best wishes in getting your lives back together. Jeff
You’re so right, Jeff. My husband and I keep pointing out that they thought we needed all that “stuff” before, but we don’t.
A new chapter has begun for us and I appreciate your well wishes. I’ll keep you posted.
That is so awful but yet does sound like you are doing great now. I have no advice other than what you seem to be doing. When I was a young teen our house caught on fire but was detained to the kitchen. My step dad who was a molestor was passed out on the couch and my “loving” mother had to almost drag him out. It was no where near as bad as your fire as it was put out and we was able to go back in. But on a brighter side I was allowed to go stay with my grammie for a few years then.
Good heavens, Linda. your situation sounds 1,000 times since your stepdad caused you trauma on a regular basis. Thank you for your honesty.
I truly believe SOMETHING good, no GREAT, will come of this, I’m just a control freak and want to know what that is NOW.
As much as you might feel the pain, the smoke detector got you up and moving, you got yourself and the dogs out, and you and all of your family got to watch the sunrise the next morning. Car accidents kill, cancer might kill, we can name a million things that could kill us. The moment between life and death came and you and everyone in your family lived. I would count that in the win column.
AMEN and HALLELUJAH to everything you said. Sometimes, I want to beat up myself that I didn’t call 911, but I waited 3 minutes. That thinking is a big, fat waste of time because I can’t undo the past.
We’re here now with (almost) all our stuff in tact. The fact that stuff will be housed elsewhere is of lesser importance. Definitely a WIN. THANKS!
Wow … such a difficult thing to process. I am impressed with how you’ve handled it so far. Good luck with your upcoming life changes and transitions.
We’ve definitely had our ups and downs, but pushing forward is all I know how to do (along with coffee and a lot of curse words).
Everyone’s comments are lifting my spirits so much. THANK YOU for taking time to reach out to me.
Marcy, Your stamina and ability to identify the really important concepts in this life of unknowns is amazing. I know you may not feel like it, but you are so balanced and stable–a wonderful role model. You don’t need my advice. You just gave me some. You are the one who will fall in a vat of cream and keep paddling until you churn a pat of butter to sit on–then you’ll climb out of the vat. Love and peace to you.
No, I’m the one who will eat her way to the damn bottom of the vat of cream, then climb her way out to live another day. HA!
I feel nothing close to balanced or stable. THANK YOU for always seeing the best in me, sweet Vicki. THANK YOU!
First of all I want to say Thank God you survived to tell the story. I don’t have any advice for you. You seem to be doing just what you need to do. Reflecting on the blessings you still have in spite of all you have lost. Appreciating the fact that God spared the lives of you and your entire family, including the dogs. God is awesome! His ways are not our ways. His thoughts not ours. I don’t know what message He’s sending to you and your family through this tragedy, but I know He’ll make it real clear for you. Just continue to be patient, hold on to His hands and remember His promise…He’ll never leave nor forsake you. To God be all glory!!! Thanks for sharing. I pray that someone else will respond with better Words of wisdom than I.
LOVE. THIS. God is always good, even when it looks like a nightmare. God and I are having many, many talks these days and I’m learning for the bazillionth time that God’s timing is nowhere near Marcy’s time. And, that’s okay.
I always say adversity is a blessing turned inside out (this is coming from a person who has experienced a life time of personal tragedy) good results usually aren’t immediate.They roll out slowly. I have finally figured out that struggle is an advantage and we have the choice to look at it as a cruel master or an awesome teacher. It gives us a good workout in areas where we’re weak and strengthens our resolve like nothing else can. I hate that you are going through all this, but the real praise is that physically you and your family (including your fur kids) are intact.Keep writing girlfriend. The cabin sounds like heaven to me. For some great relaxation you might want to check out Third Coast SALT Amarillo.
Hello, precious, Suzana. THANK YOU for checking on me. Struggle is a cruel master, or awesome teacher. LOVE THAT.
This cabin is heaven and truly the perfect place for us right now. I’ll definitely check out Third Coast SALT. We need all the help we can get! 🙂
Advice? No. Thoughts? Yes. All of this…is a grieving process. The advice when we lose our spouse is not to make a Life changing decision for at least a year. A house is not a person. But it represented home and family and life. If it is possible to wait till next August to make a decision, do it. I won’t recommend any choice. What your family has endured is sad, devastating and brought your family closer. Fighting with insurance companies is a horror. so take your time, and let God deal with them. It will come out okay.
Christmas in a cabin in the country? How beautiful.
Hi Alice,
I’m definitely enjoying brighter moments and I don’t feel like I”m in fog of shock anymore. However, I’m still VERY MUCH grieving all this. My father-in-law has said we can stay in this cabin as long as we like, so we have plenty of time. God is good, and will see us through this. I’ll keep you posted …
You are doing quite well. Give yourself time to let your faith talk to you. I will be praying for wisdom and guidance to relax your mind and heart. Laugh at your husband’s jokes and kiss that man-child. Walk with your dogs and be restful.
YES, JANE! Please pray for wisdom and guidance to relax my mind and heart. I’ll can work up myself into such a tizzy that I’m foaming at the mouth. I try to do SOMETHING every day to quiet my chattering brain: church, yoga, centering prayer, but it’s hard.
THANKS for your well wishes. m3
I know what you are feeling,, my house fire was 2 years ago, my friend lived in the basement, the fire started there, she died I was lucky,i woke up in time, insurance does not cover all, but my pets and me are fine and back in my dream house my husband built 4 me in1980, he died in 2003 my oldest son died may this year,50 years old life go on,be thankful for all the good memerorys
WOW, Shirley. You’ve been through a LOT. Thank you for sharing some of your story with me. We feel stronger every day and appreciate friends like you. MANY THANKS!
You weren’t lucky…you were and still are blessed!
I’m sitting her with tears clouding my vision. I can’t imagine your pain and heartache. But you know, just as an outside observer….when you said this has made your writing come alive, I had the thought that God had to get your attention. He had to shake you to the marrow of your bones to get you moving on the right track. I’m so, so sorry that this happened and that we get so settled and complacent that a tragedy like this has to happen to get us moving in the right direction. Your deep faith will see you through. I have no doubts. Be immensely grateful for each small thing of beauty He puts in your path. I’ve love to wake up to deer in my yard! And those amazing sunrises and sunsets! If I can help in any way, please let me know.
I apologize for what I said in a comment a while back–that I’d come over to your house and kick your rear if you didn’t get moving on Copper’s next book. I wasn’t being a good friend. I love you dearly.
No apologies. What you said about kicking my book over my next Copper book made me LAUGH OUT LOUD. You’re the kind of friend I need. We’re on shaky ground, but we’ll be okay. Love you, too!
Wow! What a story! So sad to hear about the loss of so many of your life’s treasures, but your blog post was very inspiring. Good luck on your next adventure, and I am anxiously waiting for your next book.
You’re such a gem, Natalie. Thank you. I’m anxiously awaiting me FINISHING my next book! HA! 🙂
You have such an amazing attitude!!!!! We’ve moved a couple of times in the last years, and wouldn’t feel that way about those homes. If this had happened to our house in Amarillo, I would be devastated!!!!! So many memories!!!!! Bless you and your family!!!!! for me the up side is your new book being published!!!! LOVE Copper!!!!! Love you sweet friend!!!!!
Thank you, Lise. Friends like you are TRULY keeping us going. Please keep encouraging me about Copper Daniels. Love you, too!
Lord, Marcy, I just read your post and I cried. I’m so sorry this happened to you and your family. I firmly believe that everything in life happens for a reason. Perhaps the reason this happened is to make y’all sit back and really look at your lives, what you really need and what really matters. It appears as though you have figured this out – and it’s only been a month! Even though you have all those memories in the old house, the new house will be your chance to get everything you want but didn’t have in the old house and it will be a place for new memories. Grandchildren will probably be in your future and they will only know the new house filled with Grandma and Grandpa’s warmth.
I agree everything happens for a reason, Helen. I’m doing my best to stay faithful, though some days are much easier to do that than easier. Again, I’m gifted with a husband who makes me laugh, laugh, laugh, so we’re giggling a lot these days.
A gripping story because it’s true, told from the heart, and beautifully written. You’re an amazing writer, and an amazing person. So sorry this happened to you and your family, but you all have risen from the ashes. Inspiring!
You’ve had your own personal crises the past few years that in some ways are more painful than a fire because it was folks you loved who were hurting other folks you loved. You also understand how trauma can stall your writing. However, you and I are survivors. We keep moving forward (even if ti’s crawling sometimes). THANK YOU for your friendship.
You sound so aware of what was taking place all around you; I can only imagine the feelings of terror you must have felt in not knowing where the fire was and, then, when you finally saw flames. Grateful that Someone was (is) watching over you and your family (including the Lab and Pug!). Apart from your intriguing narrative, I wonder if you’re interested in writing down even deeper things that went on (maybe related to the very human response of crying)? Thank you for sharing a piece of reality from your life…something that could happen to any of us.
What interesting insights you have, Robert. Thank you for sharing them with me. I can tell there will man MANY stories to come from this fire…some fiction, some nonfiction. Not everyone goes through a fire, but WE ALL face trauma in different forms and fashion. More than once. I find I feel less alone when I speak my truth.
Van Gogh once wrote in a letter to his brother, that he had “heaps of ideas” for sketches and paintings; but in reading his descriptions of ordinary persons and things you realize he was seeing (as Blake recommended) through and not with the eyes. Amazing what details come to us, hidden from everyone but those intent on the truth. Looking forward to one day reading some of “the many stories to come from this fire…”.
I’ve never heard that story about Van Gogh. Fantastic. I hope I can share several of my truths from this journey.
I’ve been reading The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh…interesting how painting and writing parallel each other in a lot of ways. Anyway, this is way off your original subject; forgive my randomness, just thought of a favorite Psalm (from The Message): “Every morning/ you’ll hear me at it again./ Every morning/I lay out the pieces of my life/on your altar/and watch for fire to descend” (Ps.5:2-3). Hanging on loosely to the things we have, so that we might be held more tightly by Him.
Wow, Marcy! I don’t have the words. You write beautifully. Thank you for reminding us to stop and enjoy life. I will be thinking about your wonderful family. I’m glad you are all ok and those awesome puppies.
Tamara❤️
I so appreciate your words, Tamara. Writing helps me make sense of life. it’s who I am. We’re so grateful for friends like you to see us through this. Much love.
As with the rest, I am so sorry for all that you lost and am completely awed with your amazing outlook. Allow yourself the time to grieve over your family’s memento’s, prized possessions (sorry can’t call it the stuff), the memories even the the things you most wanted to get rid of in the house as holding it in brings even more grief. And you should feel so very proud of yourself, that in the moment of awareness, you held it together and did what was necessary. My advice is to continue what you are doing, talking about it (like calling your mom) or do what you do best write about it, journal it, blog it, or perhaps write a book whether fictional or not whether you publish it or not. My mother, God rest her soul, use go outside away from everyone and just scream which might be helpful when dealing with the insurance companies and the rest. God Bless.
Beautiful, especially the part about screaming. A most universally human thing to do!
Such wise words, Nancy. Thank you. I’ll definitely add SCREAMING to my bag of tricks. ANYTHING to make this better.
Love this! Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude!
Thanks. It varies between lots of F bombs and gratitude, but at least we keep making our way back to gratitude.
Thank you for sharing. You have impacted my day and I hope I can learn from you grateful heart carrying it forward daily. I wish you blessings.
I appreciate your kind words, Leslie. This has been life-changing for sure, so we’re just trying to walk through the pain the best way we can.
Marcy,
So glad you all are safe. I pray God will grant you peace and comfort after such a traumatic experience. May He grant you wisdom and guidance as you move forward.
G
Such a lovely prayer, G. Thank you the generosity and beauty of your words. They’re nourishing me during this difficult time.
Mercy! I had no idea Marcy! Of course I’m so sorry for your loss and thankful you have your family and fur babies and all your love package to surround you. But the cruel fact is that you still lost a part of yourself.
It has all been said in the notes above so I have nothing new to add. Being Irish I will still add though.
I know the things you lost were ‘only’ material and thank God for that! But the fact is you still lost and there is a gaping bleeding hole left behind. We are supposed to, and should, count all trauma as blessing and maybe someday you will. I confess though that I haven’t found that point in my life yet. Loss makes me bleed, no hemorrhage! We all know though that Our Lord is always there to carry us through the time of healing. Your faith will see you through but there will be scarring.
This may well be a wake up call to direct you toward a new path in your life. I have found that to be true in my own life. I hope and pray this will be true in your case.
BUT! (Why does there always be a but?) This new path will just be that, a path. Not a nice paved, smooth freeway. The route markers may be dim and undefined as well.
BUT! You have your love for and from your family as well as your faith and wonderful Triune to support you. You are strong and already back on your feet. I have total confidence in you. I’ve told you before that you are a great lady.
I’m blessed to have you in my life and so very, very glad you are doing so well.
Love, hugs, and prayers,
Dixie
Precious Dixie! I’m Irish, too, so I LOVED your additions. The part that spoke to me most is how this new path won’t be a paved, smooth freeway. The rouse marks to appear to be VERY dim and undefined.
We just need to keep moving forward in the dark. However, I’m so grateful for folks like you who are helping lighting the way for us with your love and prayers. TY!
Shew Marcy! I haven’t read your blog for some time, and I found this in my inbox. I’m so glad you did manage to grab your laptop. That would be me as well. This is one of my worst nightmares… I really don’t have any actual advice to give you, as you seem to be doing everything I would do. God Bless you! I’m so glad you are all safe, including the puppies!
Thank you for leaving a comment, Sandy. It’s GREAT to hear from you. Isn’t that funny that my laptop was the first thing I grabbed? Says a lot about me (good and bad). We’re so grateful nobody was hurt and we’re here for whatever new adventure that God is taking us on!
How lucky you truly are to have been able to save anything at all! We lost everything in a fire last year. We saved some but not all of our pets. We are living in a rental while our home is being rebuilt. My husband has a serious lung disease and is not expected to live much longer. My hope is they will finish our home so he can be there for his final days. Our fire started at midnight while we were all asleep. Fortunately my son and husband were able to get out.
Karen, your comment took my breath away. I’m SO SORRY that you had a fire at all + yours sounds sooooo much worse. Mostly, my heart aches that you’re losing your husband at this time, too. I’ll add my prayers that he gets to go home to enjoy the end of his life.
What strikes me most how calm you sound. People keep telling me the same thing. I think when life deals you tragedy, you just manage it the best you can. I’ll hold your family in my heart with what lies ahead.
I am so happy that you and your family are safe! A death by house fire is an awful thing to go thru….My oldest brother, Johnny, was killed that way in 1977. My Mom died in 2014 and never got over the death of Johnny. She said that you always, always believe that you will die before your children.
I remember the few things that were saved from his house always smelled of smoke.
Living after, and learning from, the trauma of a house fire is not an easy task but with your strength and that of your husband’s you will persevere.
So grateful no one was hurt.
Fan hugs,
jo
Hi Jo,
You know firsthand the destruction fire can do. This fire continues to teach us every day. Thank you for taking time to reach out to me. Everyone’s comments are truly touching my heart.
Marcy- I’m so sorry this has happened. But I have to believe that you have the right attitude, you are looking at all the positives and that’s all you can do. Plus The things you’re thankful for, which I totally agree, you were spared and you still have your family, your health, and everything else can be replaced. You’ve got this girl.. this is only a stumbling block, but you will rise up and be better and stronger for this experience. Love you and I’ll keep praying for you. I love your cherry attitude at trying to see the positives. I bet Copper has even given you some of her homeless advise along this journey.
Love you sweet Lady.
Your words always speak so strongly to my heart, Tonya. I think I’ve told you this before, but an unexpected blessing from publishing Copper Daniels’ story in meeting readers like you, who then become friends. That’s a crazy, beautiful world right there.
Wow, Marcy! You’ve been through a lot and I admire that you’re looking at the positives and what you’re grateful for.
The only advice I can give you is to do exactly what you’re doing: looking for the positives while acknowledging the negatives. What an amazingly resilient woman you are.
My thoughts are with you and your family. <3
Many thanks, Mollie. There’s a reason for this fire. I don’t see it as a punishment, or anything like that, but my husband and I both FEEEEEL God leading us to something new. It’s scary, but we’re trying to follow as best we can.
Darling, you’re gonna have PTSD for a good while over this. It’s a life-changing event. Mourn, deal, and keep your gratitude journal up to date. Don’t have one? Start one! I love mine; I’ve been scribbling in mine like crazy this summer with my own struggles. It’s actually called “Silver Linings” on the front. Always remember, you’re better off than some, worse off than others. Life sucks sometimes, don’t it? All the platitudes in the world won’t help, just your faith and love for your family can help you rebuild a new, exciting chapter in your path on this world. You’re a fierce, strong woman! You will continue to be an amazing soul, so you go with your bad self! Plus, an occasional bubble bath with chocolate and a good book does wonders for the psyche. Much love, doll!
Most excellent advice.
You hit the nail on the head with EVERY word, Sarah. I definitely have PTSD, but joy, too. How CRAZY is that. I’ll keep pushing forward. THANK YOU for all your wisdom. It means a lot!
I’m so sorry that you lost your home, but you have your family. You are facing this with an amazing attitude. Somewhere down the line you’ll find that you will be given back what was taken away plus more. Your faith will keep you going. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
I love the idea of being given back all that way taken away + more. What a lovely sentiment. Of course, it happen exactly that way, but I do truly, 100% believe that God will bless us in some way. We’re starting a new adventure … we just need to continue to be faithful and follow…
Being given back more than what you lost after a tragedy seems to many to be one of the messages of the book of Job. But I have always found that something that makes me very uneasy. I don’t think that makes much sense as God’s message to us. After all, we are supposed to lay up our treasure in heaven, not on earth. If God gives us more on earth, then we are expected to do more for others.
As long as God gives us enough, which He often does, then we should rejoice. Not just gratitude, but actually joy overflowing! Can I do this? Occasionally, but most of the time I fall way short. But one thing I have learned is to rejoice daily about simply being alive and knowing that God still has a purpose for me. I learned that when I had an accident in which I nearly died.
Since the accident I have been dealing with multiple severe disabilities and constant pain. I can keep the pain at manageable levels but it never goes away. Still I need less medicine to manage the pain and I can care for myself better and do more each month. It takes effort to recover. But I know that I am worth the effort.
I still have less than I would have had if the accident had not occurred and sometimes I am mad or sad about that. But I am a stronger and more thoughtful person than I was. Overall, that is a huge net gain. I am learning a little why Paul said that he had learned in whatever situation he was in to be content. I think that is a better message for both of us to take to heart than the fact that Job had more worldly goods after he lost everything than he had before.
Remember that many of the men who wrote the New Testament and many others that were written about and still thousands more whose names are forgotten died horrible deaths because of their faith. And in spite of the persecutions the new faith spread like wildfire. Something about the new faith was stronger even than the fear of death. Death by stoning, by crucifixion, by drowning, by burning. None of this stopped people from believing the unbelievable, that the son of God became man, took upon himself the burden of our sins, died horribly for us, and by doing so earned for us an eternal life after death. Unbelievable, yet millions upon millions have believed, and have been transformed by this belief. By comparison, what do our loses matter? That is the important message. That is keeping our eye on the prize.
I am glad that you have your family intact and a beautiful place to live. I am glad that you are continuing to write.
I know that it is normal and human to miss things that you lost unexpectedly and that you would now be enjoying if you still had them. I do that too.
It is normal to be frightened by sirens and smoke alarms after an experience like yours.
It is normal and reasonable to get counseling to deal with a tragic loss like yours, and it will probably help. I have done that also.
God made us in his image and then said that it is not good for man to be alone. So it is right and good that we support each other in both good times and bad times, as the world judges good and bad.
But all things work for the good of those that love and serve our Creator. Sometimes we just do not see the good yet. That is when “faith is the evidence of things hoped for and the proof of things that are still unseen.” May God give you peace in your heart and mind, even when you do not yet know what new adventure is coming next.
Beautifully said. That you for the powerful reminder of faith + peace of mind. Loved this.
Marcy,
I’m sooo happy you’ve had so many comments and support at a time when you really needed it. ‘Hands Across the Water’ [Wings] might be an apprpriate background track to play at this point …
I believe you’ve already taken the ‘best advice’ I could give.
I grew up i a city with a population of about 2m (Liverpool, UK) and I feel ‘comfortable’ here.
But I never felt more truly “at home” than on the three occsions now when I’ve visited “McDermott Country” – the sleepy byways and backwaters of Co. Roscommon, in Ireland, where my family originally came from. You ‘sort of’ mentioned it yourself, the Pace of Life is noticeably different, it’s slower and far more relaxed. You cn’t BUY that sort of Peace – Peace of Mind, Body and Soul. An ideal time for you to take FULL advantage of the “Empty Nest” factor?
I love Paul McCartney and Wings, so I’ll enjoy Hands Across the Water playing in my head the rest of today. The slower pace is amazing and helping us gain many insights for what’s next.
Thank you for your comment, Paul. I appreciate your wisdom.
Dearest friend, I am so sorry that you have to go through something so deeply unsettling. When ever there is sudden loss like this, we are reminded of the fragility of life. It’s what can make it so beautiful that we hold our breath for fear that it will blow away like dandelion seeds.
It also helps us to see how strong we can be when called upon … and how blessed we truly are to have an abundance of love and comfort that, sadly, so many live without.
Gratitude. As I read your story out loud so that my husband could hear it too, I felt a lump in my throat and my lower lip quiver. What if it had been the middle of the night … would she still be at that keyboard writing this blog post? Thankfully, all that is most valuable is safe and sound (including your laptop LOL).
Blessings and much love to you and your family. xoxo
(And yes, isn’t it amazing to wake up in peaceful and beautiful surroundings? I still can’t get enough!)
It truly warms my heart to read your comment, TO. I feel your love from Canada all the way down here in Texas. The past two months has been unbelievable … such amazing highs and incredible lows.
Despite losing our house (which I still can’t believe), we’re seeing and feeling that we’re blessed with so much more. We knew that before, but experiencing this on a cellular level.
Love you! Thank you for your friendship!
Praise The LORD that no one was hurt, especially with you & your furry family being home! I am glad y’all have a place you can stay & that it is one with good memories & that y’all enjoy. I would say, if you do not want to rebuild, find a place that you believe y’all can make home & go from there. Blessings in disguise can be awesome; I know this tragic event has deeply affected each one of you. You will pull through it with God guiding each of you & together as a family. Prayers for y’all for your healing as well as for your decisions you need to make concerning your future.
Sincerely,
Rebecca
What a heartfelt post, Rebecca. Thank you. We’re experiencing “blessings in disguise” on a daily basis. It’s a weird, but wonderful journey that we’re on and are trying to stay present for the good, the bad and everything in between. TY!
*huuuuuuuuuug that goes on forever* that must have been so awful. I feel for you. Hoping for the best for you. I got diagnosed with a lot of things that sums down to three kinds of depression, two kinds of anxiety (general anxiety disorder and social anxiety) and sensory stuff. Hope you figure out stuff. *huuuuug*
I feel your huuuuuuuuuuuuuggggs! Love you, Miriam. WOW are your diagnoses. At least now you know what you’re dealing with … that can make a huge difference.
Good luck to us both. I’m grateful you’re my friend, Miriam. THANK YOU!
Indeed I am. I sure hope I can get things done and figured out. Good luck in your writing!
I was a firefighter/EMT for 19 years and would suggest thanking the emergency responders (firefighters and law enforcement) that assisted you and your family on the day of the fire. These folks only see you in moments of emergency and when times are at their worst. So many times a simple “thank you” is forgotten even though it is sincerely meant.
Thank you for that reminder, Lynn. We’ve been talking about either having the firemen over for dinner, or taking them a baked treat. They were AWESOME and I’m so grateful for them stopping the fire so quickly.
Wow. Traumatizing for sure. What’s important is that you’re ok. Devastating to loose everything, but as difficult as that must be, can’t replace you. Thank goodness you have such wonderful support behind you. Your fans are here for you. If you need to talk about, no problem, we’re all ears. Take care
“Your fans are here for you.” THAT right there, sweet Jackie, fills my heart with so much gratitude. THANK YOU. An unexpected blessing of being a published author is connecting with readers…about their stories, but also about LIFE, too.
Your comment made my day! TY!
You are incredible, Marcy! I love your optimism and faith! ?
Thanks, Susan. It’s a slow, ugly process, but we’re slogging our way through it. Much love. m3
While I haven’t been through something as drastic as a house fire, I can relate to what you are feeling. About 16 years ago my husband had a computer crash. I lost 2 years worth of pictures of my children. To put this into perspective, I had a rough childhood that has left a lot of holes in my memory. Without pictures most of my childhood would be a blank page, and even now I have some memory gaps, so losing the photos of my children sent me reeling. Those photos are my memories. They are what keeps my past from being blank. Needless to say, I was devastated. I started screaming and crying, I might have even thrown some things. My daughter, who was 8 at the time, came up and told me I needed to let it go. She reminded me that the pictures were just items, and since it was shortly after 9/11, I needed appreciate the fact that we could continue to make new memories. For some reason hearing those words come out of my child’s mouth really hit me hard. It changed my view on everything that was important. Fast forward to about 9 years ago… The mountain that I live on was on fire. It started small, and then spread quickly because of wind. The fire was melting fences about a half mile from my home, and we were all ordered to evacuate. Luckily we had been watching the fire and everyone around me had started to prepare to leave. People were loading up all of their vehicles with everything. Mattresses, pictures off the wall, a piano, all of their clothes… you get the picture. My neighbor across the street even had her 14-year-old son drive one of her cars so she could save more things. I told my children to pack a backpack with items they couldn’t live without and two outfits. I then gathered my dogs, bird, clothes for my husband and I, and the important papers, and prepared to flee. I was able to stay calmer, and load into one car, because I was only taking those things that really mattered with me. My little girl had taught me how to let go of possessions and hold tighter to life. It wasn’t the easiest lesson I ever learned, but I know now that if I ever go through another fire, or the flood that followed, I will be ok as long as my family is. I’m glad that you are all ok, and that you will have the chance to continue making memories wherever you end up. Sending love to all of you!
WOW! Two amazing stories. Thank you so much for sharing them with me. They really help put things into perspective. We’re okay, and look forward to seeing what’s next for my family.
Dear Lady!
That is a most monstrous way to end a summer. I am glad you are all OK, including the woofers.
Losing one’s house is not so much the loss of the physical property as it is the loss of the time, effort, and ,yes, the LIFE we have invested in the building of that edifice in which we live, that which we call our “home”. It is the sense, the very fact of our being there, which makes it so. We have it on good authority, “…that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.” Adversity and affliction are only things of a small moment, and keeping close to the Lord helps us to endure it well. You sound like you are there, already.
Nine years ago, we were set out of our own home (not by fire, but by WATER – – the contractor left the roof open on the night of the worst summer storm Pure Appalachia had seen in decades) and were out of it for three months. The absolute worst, in my opinion, was having an unlimited amount of time on my hands and not being able to access any of my STUFF. On the night of our forty-third wedding anniversary, we tried to check in to the local motel, dripping water on the carpet, carrying two water-logged suitcases, our laptop computers (DRY, at all costs) with a cage containing our two thoroughly wet and utterly incensed cats, and two soggy Yorkshire Terriers on leashes. The motel clerk just looked at me and laughed, right out loud, in my face. I didn’t speak his native tongue, and he didn’t get much of my frustrated English, but we both spoke VISA pretty good, so our menagerie and my wife an I were OK for the time being.
That three month period turned out to be the needed impetus for the renewal of effort at writing, drawing, and watercolor.
The only thing I could offer, if it is “advice”, would be: You know the old “It’s an ill wind . . . ” thingie, don’t you? Keep focused, especially on Copper’s story. Especially Copper. I liked the first, I’m looking forward to the next one. You already know in your heart, what is truly important and what is less so. Don’t waste too much time or effort spinning your wheels.
Prayer is good, absolutely necessary, actually. Keep focused on what matters most, but don’t hold too closely, ’cause something utterly new and grand could be waiting for an opportunity to slip into your life.
Oh, and one of your other friends said something that makes more sense than anything I could add – “Don’t make any large decisions for a year.” Golden!
Thank you so much, Robert, for taking time to talk to me. What a way to spend your 43rd anniversary!
A new opportunity is forming for Mark and me out there. I feel happening inside, but it hasn’t revealed itself yet, so we have no choice but to be patient and grateful for being spared so much pain.
Marcy… I love that you are making the best of a house/home fire. No surprise here! We each have a choice each day to be happy… that’s without a fire… you’re an inspiration for sure. God be with you and Mark as you make decisions over your future… there is a plan.
You’re such a gem, Janie. THANK YOU. We’re muddling our way through this, though some days are much better than others. God’s timing is definitely not ours, so we’re just trying to be patient and the future unfolds itself to us.
Your strength and positive attitude, along with your honesty about the ups and downs and occasional F-bombs, is deeply inspirational to me. I’m sorry that you lost your beautiful home and so many of your personal things that can never be replaced. I think you should consider staying in the country and becoming more self-sustaining in terms of food production, access to drinking water and the like. All talk of grid collapse aside, it sounds like you’ve described yourself as coming alive in terms of your writing and your relationship with God since living in the country. What could be more important? If you decide to move, consider moving further away from the cities and onto a larger piece of property that can produce more food for you and your family. But whatever you decide, thank you for sharing this traumatic experience in such a positive and meaningful way. You totally rock, Marcy! 🙂
Thanks, Talmage. I don’t feel like I’m being very positive, but I’m delighted that others are seeing that way. We really are loving like in the country, so who know where we’ll wind up. Mostly, I appreciate folks like you cheering us on!
:):):)
Thank you Marcy for kindly being open and honest about what y’all are going through. This is not your first difficult loss nor last and I am truly grateful you are willing to be vulnerable to share in your gifted way. Reading through these posts Marcy is a testament to what God has done in and through you and a light towards what He has planned for you. Rest in Him, trust in Him and keep sharing the joy that oddly comes from surviving what is intended to destroy. I can’t wait to see what the Lord is preparing y’all for and will be devoted to praying for you continuously. I love you more than the days that have gone by since I have seen you!! ??
Awwww, what special words, Chrissy. We’ve loved each other a very long time, and I’m so grateful for your love and prayers. We’ll friends like you by our side…we’ll surely get through this.
XO – Marcy
My heart goes out to you and your family. So glad you are okay and safe. Back in 2007 I experienced a house fire as well. But unlike you I wasn’t able to grab my computer because the smoke had filled the house so fast the only thing we were able to get out was us. All the time I stood by our truck watching the flames lap under our roof and billowing out the windows where only moments earlier we were sitting I cried. Not because we were loosing our home but because my life was in there – what was my life- my writing of course… The entire event is in a book I wrote entitled “I’m thankful for..” which is on Amazon, ( shameless plug).
When we were able to finally get back in and get our things, because our place was totally destroyed the first thing I got out was my laptop and hugged it as if it were a child.
It took my a long time to get over it. But after writing about it a few times from different perspectives it has lessened but not forgotten. I still drive by the place- the home has sense been torn down.
WOW! Your fire was so much worse than ours, but I understand EXACTLY what you mean. It’s not so much that HOUSE, that BUILDING that I’m grieving, but that was our home. We raised our kids there for the past 17 years.
I’m glad the pain lessens because right now, it’s SO PROFOUND. Thank you for taking time to write. Your comment has truly touched my heart.
So glad you’re okay, Marcy! I’m impressed that you are able to see the bright side even in the worst situation. My thoughts are with you and your family.
Thanks, Adan. This has not been an easy process, and I don’t see the end anywhere in sight. I appreciate you thinking about us, and I’ll be sure to keep you posted on our progress.
xo – m3
My prayers are with you. I’m sorry I didn’t read this sooner. I’m guessing I missed some update posts also. Anyway, like you, I grabbed my purse and laptop when our fire alarm went off. Luckily, ours was a false alarm. We did have part of our roof blown off from strong winds after a tornado passed by our house. It was a mile away and still managed to do some damage. The insurance co. argued about coverage but they did cover it. It’s truly a shame that insurance companies give you a hard time when you need them the most.
Keep your faith in God strong. We don’t always learn why bad things happen to good people, but God prevails.
We’re already feeling God prevailing. I’m glad everything turned out okay with your home. THANK YOU for reaching out to me! Means a lot.