I am feeling physically and mentally exhausted. It's hard to figure out precisely why. I have been working a lot. I have had a lot on my mind. But somehow it feels like a lot can be attributed to the past 24 hours.
I have been awash in emotions. I feel relief. I feel sorrow and sadness. I feel gratitude. I feel disappointment. I feel empathy. I feel awe. I feel disbelief. I feel devastation.
Yesterday afternoon I ran into someone at the post office in Cimarron. He asked about the post office in Miami, to which I replied that it was fine. I couldn't figure out what he was implying. I learned that there was a fire. I had no idea what that meant or what had happened. Shortly after the woman I was waiting to meet from Albuquerque so we could set up for this morning's training asked about a trailer fire in Miami. I felt like I was really missing out on something big - Miami is such a small town that it felt awkward not knowing what happened and hearing it from someone from Albuquerque.
As soon as I was able to head home, I drove in a hurry, hoping to get home before the light had faded. There was not much left of the light, but I could see the blackened frame of the trailer, the broken out windows, the hollowness. A fire broke out and has left one of our neighbors homeless and without possession. Thomas and the guys were all there, most getting to fight their first structure fire. They fought a good fight for probably about 6 hours. Time moves in different ways when dealing with an emergency, and all were mostly oblivious to anything but the task at hand. They were muddy and smokey and tired. Thomas and I just got our bunker gear, but his doesn't look as new as mine anymore.
Evidently it was quite a spectacle. There were lots of fire trucks - the neighboring departments showed up to provide support, the ladies auxiliary with sandwiches, and the lookie-loos, neighbors and people just passing by. There was a lot of water. Still the site is surrounded with snow from the storm of the week, and another is blowing in now. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have helped, to have had a purpose and role in helping our neighbor: the rush of actually getting to fight a fire tempered with knowing the woman now homeless. I also can't help but wonder what a liability I would have been with such little training.
Maybe it was because I wasn't there that I feel so emotional about it, that I feel such empathy and devastation for our neighbor. She is an older woman who lived alone except for her pets. I don't think she ever married, and I don't know that she has any children. I just keep thinking about how a person later in life starts life over. No pictures, no blankie, no heirloom cedar chest from Grandma. Losing every piece of clothing save what was worn out of the house, favorite books, souvenirs, music collections. How does one get back all those account numbers and data filed away of financial records or memberships or insurance? Does life start over in the same place and same way or...what?
My heart pours out to our neighbor and to all the men who were there to try to stop the damage. My heart is just very full, and the rest of me feels empty....
?
I have been awash in emotions. I feel relief. I feel sorrow and sadness. I feel gratitude. I feel disappointment. I feel empathy. I feel awe. I feel disbelief. I feel devastation.
Yesterday afternoon I ran into someone at the post office in Cimarron. He asked about the post office in Miami, to which I replied that it was fine. I couldn't figure out what he was implying. I learned that there was a fire. I had no idea what that meant or what had happened. Shortly after the woman I was waiting to meet from Albuquerque so we could set up for this morning's training asked about a trailer fire in Miami. I felt like I was really missing out on something big - Miami is such a small town that it felt awkward not knowing what happened and hearing it from someone from Albuquerque.
As soon as I was able to head home, I drove in a hurry, hoping to get home before the light had faded. There was not much left of the light, but I could see the blackened frame of the trailer, the broken out windows, the hollowness. A fire broke out and has left one of our neighbors homeless and without possession. Thomas and the guys were all there, most getting to fight their first structure fire. They fought a good fight for probably about 6 hours. Time moves in different ways when dealing with an emergency, and all were mostly oblivious to anything but the task at hand. They were muddy and smokey and tired. Thomas and I just got our bunker gear, but his doesn't look as new as mine anymore.
Evidently it was quite a spectacle. There were lots of fire trucks - the neighboring departments showed up to provide support, the ladies auxiliary with sandwiches, and the lookie-loos, neighbors and people just passing by. There was a lot of water. Still the site is surrounded with snow from the storm of the week, and another is blowing in now. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have helped, to have had a purpose and role in helping our neighbor: the rush of actually getting to fight a fire tempered with knowing the woman now homeless. I also can't help but wonder what a liability I would have been with such little training.
Maybe it was because I wasn't there that I feel so emotional about it, that I feel such empathy and devastation for our neighbor. She is an older woman who lived alone except for her pets. I don't think she ever married, and I don't know that she has any children. I just keep thinking about how a person later in life starts life over. No pictures, no blankie, no heirloom cedar chest from Grandma. Losing every piece of clothing save what was worn out of the house, favorite books, souvenirs, music collections. How does one get back all those account numbers and data filed away of financial records or memberships or insurance? Does life start over in the same place and same way or...what?
My heart pours out to our neighbor and to all the men who were there to try to stop the damage. My heart is just very full, and the rest of me feels empty....
?
1 comment:
YEA! (ok, that's a little morbidly excited for just a loss), but congrats to Thomas on catching his first job! Glad that nobody was hurt.....
-Oren
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