The first week was a blur. When I was in the fog, it all seemed so clear. Now that the haze is lifting, all clarity has escaped me like a breath from my chest. Shock does exist and it has many faces.
For Robb, it was to shut down, to let everything roll over him like a wave that forces you down to the sandy bottom and holds you there until it decides to let you free. For me it was hyper-vigilance, over protection, and control.
It was easy to fall into the roll of someone who would fix everything and somehow deny that anything ever happened at all. I could write about it or tell the story and not feel too much pain. The hurt barely existed; until the moments it seemed to be the only thing that existed at all.
For the first week and a half, we would walk through the house and pull things out but I gave up hope once the decrepit smell began to linger. It was at the 2 week mark that I could no longer go inside. I would wait outside while Robb or my brother would bring out the charred belongings, for me to see in the sun.
The house has not been touched by a demolition or clean up crew since the fire. To this day it sits there and rots until the finalities of insurance handling comes through and we can begin the cleaning up process. This was something I never expected. Part of me definitely thought everything would move pretty fast. There is no reasoning why I thought this to be true. I simply just assumed.
We had been in there a few times after the fire but this was the first day I would not visit and not go inside. I had already pulled out the damp and ashen computer and photography equipment. My clothes are ruined and my jewelry is gone. The art has burned; my shoes and surfboards with it. I was now checking out.
Robb and Sean sifted through the rubble and I organized the items brought from the house and placed in the barn. Some furniture from the basement, though caked in a layer of soot, made it out reeking of smoke and rot. Items I forgot about were brought into the light. Things that did not burn while everything around them had been turned to ash.
Robb is notorious for keeping the little notes I leave for him.
This is one he has held onto for years... barely singed!
This is one of Robb's drawers and the comics he collected.
Beasty and a Polaroid of Robb, Scott Negri, and David Sidner.
Christine's license plate melted but part of her emblem remains melted to the driveway.
The LP's were soaked but did not burn like most of the books!
Most of the old family negatives were lost but the twin lens might have a chance.
We have no idea how a lamp post 30 feet from the house melted but the gingerbread man that was in the fire looks brand new?!
On the left is a comic created by Robert's brother Jareth when he was young. It was in the garage and somehow survived to add some clever coincidence to the day.
Robb and I are generally doing well. We have some funny stories on the way and some information you may find helpful!! Keep checking in with us!!
Feel free to check out how some of our friends have decided to help us rebuild our lives!!
NEED HELP RECOVERING FROM A LOSS? CHECK OUT HOW FRIENDS AND FAMILY HAVE HELPED US TO RAISE FUNDS TO START FROM SCRATCH!!!
you both inspire and amaze me. we are thinking of you!
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