I have to say that our week didn't go all that well! As you can see our family had a bit of a mishap on Tuesday evening. I had decided to go to bed early that evening, so at 11 p.m. (yes, that IS early for me) I headed outside to have a ciggie before I went to bed. Now smoking is a horrible habit, i'll be the first to agree, but in this case, my bad habit probably saved my Father's Workshop from burning to the ground. It was a very cold night and usually I don't come out of the stairwell to smoke, but for some reason I did.
Anyway, I noticed some smoke and some red flashing reflecting off the snowbank behind my Father's building. Initially I thought he was coming into the yard (unusually late for him, it's only the ladies in the family that are the night owls). I was thinking it was the brake lights of the truck reflecting in the dark. WRONG!!!! The flashing was too big for Brake lights. I rang the back doorbell to my Parents entrance several times and ran across the large yard to see what was happening.
I thought perhaps the scrap wood bins had caught fire. Wrong again. I couldn't believe my eyes when I came around the corner to find the entire front of the Truck ensconced in flames. Flames were shooting off the Truck, of which the front end was pretty much gone and dancing onto the eaves of the building.
Our wonderful Firefighters responded quickly, but the Fire spread fast and furious setting the rafters and attic on fire. Fortunately the men with their huge team of Volunteers contained the fire quickly, preventing the loss of the entire building. They worked swiftly and proffessionally in the freezing cold to save what my father had worked so hard to build over the years.
I understand that it's only "stuff". We are well insured, it can be replaced and it could have been much worse. The truck could have been parked in front of the Garage of our home, it could have been our home, someone could have been hurt, someone could have died. For that I am relieved and graciously give thanks to our creator.
On the other hand, in losing stuff, sometimes you lose some of the attachment that goes along with it. It broke my heart to look into my Father's eyes to see the pain of someone who had designed and built the workshop with his own hands. Someone who had built a business over 25 years after retiring from the Government with 27 years of service. Someone, who at 73 years of age continued to work each day, his work keeping him young, healthy and maintaining a zest for life. His Stuff will be replaced. Ever Industrious, he was forging forward on Wednesday, making arrangements for all the things that will have to be in place to rebuild, using his humour to cope.
He is a determined man, but for a moment early last wednesday morning, he looked broken and it was killing me to know that there wasn't a damn thing I could do to fix him. For all the things that he took pride in and all that he had worked for had taken a bad beating. To him, the "stuff" was much more than "stuff". Each bit of "stuff" bears residue of his blood, sweat and tears. Each bit of "stuff" acquired slowly and steadily through his hard work and dedication. I thought for a moment early that morning, that he would take this as a sign to retire as I am sure that the fire had also scorched his spirit beyond repair.
This morning it seems that he will forge forward , his resilience and strength shines through. The truck will be replaced, the building repaired and I hope and pray that his spirit was only singed and will heal in due time.
Have a lovely weekend. Hope to have some Pretties for you to look at tomorrow
*****Vicki*****
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