Pity, Party of One, your table is ready

I haven't been very funny lately. I know, I know. you come to this space to find the tongue-in-cheek witticisms to distract you from life, and I have been letting you down. in my defense, things aren't hilarious right now. And, since this space is all about me, it's well, all about me.

What changed, you ask? From the fight with the spider to zombie conversations...what made life So Serious? About a week ago, I realized: This is My Life. Just like that. I actually see it in caps. this is what I live. It is what it is, and it won't really get any better. I won't write the Great American Novel. I won't be rich, or glamorous. I won't rise to the top of the glass ceiling. I know, that doesn't seem that important, and I really don't want to conquer Corporate America. But I still want the option.

When you are young, the world is your oyster. Pearls are there for the taking. At twenty, you aren't a bestselling author..it's ok, there's time. In your forties, Time Is Running Out. You're old. You're washed up. You're irrelevant. Leave it to the youngsters, they have more energy, and why don't you just go and find yourself a nice rocking chair there by the fire? Yeah. NO.

I am usually a fairly positive person, though I bitch a lot. I can always find the "blessing" (how I hate that word..how pious it seems, but really, no better word can be found) in the mess. There is always a silver lining. For example: In 2006, we had a house fire. The structure was still standing, but we lost damn near everything.

We had to move out into a rental for six months, with little more than the clothes on our backs. We found ourselves wandering WalMart at midnight on a Sunday because it was the only store open, and we needed underwear, people! How do you put your life back together after that? We had to buy clothes, and pajamas, and toothbrushes and and and. I was in shock. It was awful. I would never wish the experience upon anyone. BUT. And here is where I am crazy: I was blessed. My faith increased, my family became closer, I learned gratitude. I started over. Now I try to keep only those things that as William Morris put it, "...you find to be useful or believe to be beautiful." And my house was completely redone, from top to bottom. For the first time, I had real bedroom furniture! And dishes that I didn't inherit from my mother! And a home that was completely my style, and brand new everything! And that was the silver lining. I didn't blog about it, the emotions were too raw. In fact, I didn't blog at all for almost two years. That experience helps to keep it all in perspective.

Cut to this last Sunday: I had one of the worst days that I can remember. Right now, JNerd is out of town, along with JBug. It's just me and the two youngers, fending for ourselves. Sunday afternoon, our cat started yowling and lying on the ground. He wouldn't walk, and something was wrong. So to the ER vet we went. Verdict: urinary blockage. LIFE-THREATENING emergency. Exactly the reason that vets exist. The vet needed to do some things that required sedating the cat, so I took the kids to Taco Bell for a quick bite. When I went to start the car, my battery was dead. I had to call AAA to come jump it, and hope that, since it was after hours and I couldn't call the vet, they would be understanding in case I was late. (thankfully, they were, and I wasn't). Because the battery was dead, I had to keep the car running while I picked up the cat. Environment be damned. I wasn't going to get stuck there...I had a sick cat to get the after-hours clinic for overnight treatment. And let me tell you, you haven't lived until you have pumped gas with the engine running for fear if you shut it off you will be stranded.

Finally got home after 9 p.m. and my kids were a wreck. Tucked them in. Made myself a drink and opened my laptop to find: nothing. The screen was black, but I could hear it was on. I tried a whole lot of tech support stuff ("Did you turn it off and one again??") but it was unresponsive.

So, a recap.. cat, battery, computer. It comes in threes right?

My point, people, and I DO have one... that day sucked. The next day sucked as I had to get up at the buttcrack of dawn to get the cat from the Night ER vet to my regular vet. Thankfully, I had my husband's car. Once I did that, I had to get my van to Costco so that they could explain to me why my battery had failed after less than two years. Turns out Costco doesn't install or remove batteries, but it doesn't matter because we don't have yours in stock right now anyway ma'am and there's an auto store down the street that can probably help you, have a nice day. Well. Fine.

I drove my van, which by some miracle started, to Pep Boys (who I cannot say enough nice things about, you guys!) Bought my battery. They took pity on the poor married lady who was abandoned by her husband for greener conventions, and took one look at the small ragamuffin in tow who was heat-bedraggled, and had me in and out of there in fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes! New battery, yay! And, Costco gave me a full refund on my battery that failed.

When I finally got home, and was reflecting upon the events of the last coupIe of days, and it was all feeling a bit like being pecked to death by ducks. Then it hit me... (here is where I get all treacly) I really am blessed. Talk about First World Problems! We had enough money and resources to treat our sick cat. I have an auto club so that I don't get stranded when I have a problem. I have an extra car so that I could get my cat and not rely upon the kindness of my friends. I have enough money to get a new battery, and the resources to get it installed. I am rich compared to much of the world. That thought shut me up. I really have nothing to complain about. No one is dying. These are all transitional worries. I realize how obnoxious this sounds. Who really appreciated when Dad said, "Eat your peas, there are children starving in Africa?" And honestly, I got smacked when I once retorted, "Well, then, send the peas to THEM!" (made sense at the time) I am not telling you to eat your peas. I'm really not. I am telling myself. I am reminding myself that though I just turned forty_ahem ...life is not over. Life is still beautiful. My body may be changing, and my youth may be fading, but life is still good. Life is always good. Sometimes I just forget it for a bit.

As I write this, the cat is still at the vet, and will probably be ok. It will just be expensive. And I hate having to spend the money. But I love the fact that I have the resources to make the decisions that are required. I am not loaded monetarily by any means. It will be a stretch and we may eat cheese sandwiches for dinner for a bit. (more or less) but I am rich, in all the ways that count. And that revelation? Is priceless.

A Hard Post To Write, So I Won't

I promised you all that I would write about the fire that happened with our family home over a year ago. And I will. Soon.

I'll write about how we turned onto the block, surprised to see the firetrucks on our small street. And about the horror when I realized, "Oh my god, that's our house!"

I'll tell about the sickening lurch I felt deep in my gut as we pulled over to talk to the firefighters as they broke the news that our house was on fire. The Fire Chief was holding my Daytimer, trying to find a number to notify someone that our life had just crumbled.

The agony when I was told that we lost my beloved "first baby" cat, Beleu, to the smoke. He was 14. I had adopted him as a kitten. We would later find out we lost all three cats: the 14 yr old, the 4 year old and the 4 month old.

I could tell you how I went on what I term Crisis Mode Autopilot, or CMA for short. Someone had to be strong for my children, pull it together and be their rock, the one they could cling to when they were drowning in fear.

How I walked blindly through the kindnesses of the American Red Cross volunteer as he found us a place to stay, and gave us some money for things I had taken for granted just that morning: toothbrushes, underwear, pajamas. We lost everything.

At some point, the firefighters finished doing what they do and gave us our house back. Though it would be many months before we felt we had our life back again. The air was dark, and smoky, and standing in the ruins of what was once the hallway, I vowed that we would be ok, no matter what. I did the only thing I could do: something. I went searching for the lovies my children depend upon: Pooh Bear for JBug. He has been at her side since she was 4 months old. JBear's "blah", the tattered satin blanket he sleeps with every night. Next came JBean's "baby Tigger", the animal she sleeps with, plays with, sings to. Everything reeked of smoke, and my hands were black with soot. It was like a war zone. Destruction was all I saw. And that, from me, there were no tears.

I have memories of walking through Walmart, like some undead thing, because that is all that is open just before midnight on a Sunday. Shuffling through with the rest of the deadbeats and the drunks, absently putting items into the cart: toothpaste, hairbrush, remnants of my life, when I had one.

I could tell you about holding my children, and hearing their small childrens' prayers as they thanked God for the firefighters and for Mommy and Daddy and that we were all safe and together. Their small arms clasped me to them as though they were afraid I, too, would disappear in a puff of smoke.

I could tell you that the tears didn't come then.

Or I could tell about how I spent the first night, the night we were effectively homeless,in a hotel with my face on the floor as my family slept, praying for their protection and God's mercy. And, then, after everyone else was sleeping, the tears came. I know what it is to pray through the night, and baptise my Bible in puddles of fear and confusion.

Looking back, if I had known the steps that were to come in trying to rebuild, collect from the insurance company and all of the decisions that were to be required, I am certain I would have sunk to my knees and never gotten up. Add in a layoff in the middle of the rebuild, and it was a recipe for a breakdown.

I have a strong marriage.

I could tell you all of this, but though it has been over a year, I am still not ready.

T, who needs to get this out soon

Technorati: family, faith

Back again and this time for good?

I finally got back in! The negative side of tech...too many accounts, too many email addresses and I was locked out of my blog. Of course, after the fire, I didn't much feel like keeping it up. It has been a year since my last post, and I am ready now to begin anew. Besides, I am procrastinating about cleaning house.

We have settled completely with the insurance company, and while it wasn't an easy process, or a painless one, it is finally over. We ended up with a brand new rebuilt house, brand new furniture, brand new everything. And we are getting back to normal now. We moved back home in July of 2007, and we are truly home.

I have two suggestions for anyone who is worried about a fire happening to them. First of all, make sure to have an item by item inventory done and available for your home. Keep receipts of all big purchases, and store off-site. Back up all data and again, store off site. Keep birth certs and other important things stored...you guessed it, off-site. This is to prevent insurance messes, when they say you didn't have a $1000 bed, and how do they know it was truly what you said it was??

My other suggestion? Hire a public adjuster. Yes, I know, you think they are worse than those ambulance-chasing lawyers that advertise on late night tv, but they have some advantages you do not. First of all, they know the system, you do not. Insurance is complicated, and confusing; they design it that way. Secondly, adjusters work for a portion of the settlement. So, they don't get paid if you don't. And it is to their best interest to get the most for you they can, so they get paid more. Throughout the process, they probably won't do things as quickly as you want them to, or call you back as often, but in the end, it works out. As I said, we have our house rebuilt, with many upgrades. Some we paid for on our own, some were paid for by insurance. We have all brand new furniture, clothing, toys, belongings, everything. It is a heck of a way to purge, though. Not what I would suggest.

Beyond all of this, we are fine. We emerged stronger, wiser and believe it or not, better off for the tragedy. I will always miss my cats. But we worked so hard to make decisions for a home we could be comfortable with, and it really paid off.

I hope you never go through this, Internet. But if you do, know that I understand, and would love to help with what I have learned. In the next weeks, I may post more about what I learned, and pictures, if I am ever able to upload them!

T, who learned a lot through "trial by Fire"