The children spent the last of days of Indian summer playing hopscotch, drawing squares on the street, and numbering them. Stones and chalk were easy to come by, along with the mud and the sticks. It was all they had. Their bodies grew, their minds expanded, and they were creative; but the chalk was stolen, and the stones were free.
Eddie and Edie had a long discussion concerning the living situation of the two families. They concluded: now that the children were getting older; they needed to live permanently in the new house each having their own bedroom. That meant Eddie and Edie would move back into the old house.
Together the family soon settled it. The families exchanged living quarters. Edie was the one moving back and forth. These kids were smart. They noticed the gift and in return they consistently picked up after themselves and helped around the house. They felt good and wanted to please.
Life moved on. Everyone seemed to be in their happy place. Everything felt right. Nothing could go wrong. It just could not. Also, nothing stays the same.
Stricken
In the wee hours of the morning before Thanksgiving suddenly there was a rumble with violent vibrations. The shaking and noise reverberated over the sleeping village as efficiently as thunderclaps. Windows shattered. Art fell off the walls. Cupboard doors flew open and dishes tumbled out crashing. This explosion threw the family house off its foundation and took a bite from the side and the roof.
By the time Kenneth figured out that his family was safe, he looked outside. The old house, the place his parents lived exploded with a fist of orange punching its way out, sending a burst of flames into the air and debris flying everywhere. A pillar of fiery smoke and dust boiled up.
In shock amid a mass of terrible sensations, he could not move. He could not breathe. All he could hear was the blow of the enormous explosion, the noise of the glass, the howling cries and shouts of Thelma and the children, and the alarms shrilling with rushing fire engines and the police. It was a whirlpool of horror.
He stood there shaking and screaming in pain unable to believe what his senses were telling him was true. The old family farmhouse gone. Then it hit him his mom and dad were in that house. Kenneth collapsed. Paramedics rushed in.
Thelma and the kids huddled smelling the burning acrid, chemical infused air and choking---no one could speak. They watched the dirty ash rain down and the black smoke billow toward the sky. Deafening alarms engulfed the area. They watched this inferno continue to burn.
Devastation set in. The news passed through this quiet countryside like a hurricane. The Red Cross, a humanitarian organization that provides emergency help and relief coordinated with the local church to give aid. The family needed a secure place to live until the repairs and inspections on their home declared it a safe living space.
Authorities worked at trying to figure out what caused the explosion. Fire investigators determined the explosion that killed Edie and Eddie caused by a natural gas leak and aging defective steel pipes with insufficient and improper maintenance. The blast of the explosion plus the fire that followed put their lives at risk.
Everyone needed mental health counseling. Some were angry, upset, wanting to lash out with aggressive and inappropriate behavior and others wanted to withdraw and push everyone and everything away. Kenneth lost his parents. Thelma felt she lost the only family she knew. The children lost their grandparents. How could life go on without them? Everyone struggled with feelings of abandonment. Confusion, mistrust, and fear enveloped them. As they suffered through this trauma, they needed time to express their frightening emotions. They needed time to feel secure enough to vent their true feelings. They needed time to heal.
One day Anthony wrote, “Some days, I don’t feel the damage as much as other days.” Mary felt like a damaged soul. She read his words with her eyes red and full of tears.
Timothy words echoed, “I feel pain in my heart. My heart is aching.”
Kenneth with his head hanging low, “Everything my family worked and struggled for lay in ruins.” At this point he could not see the good, the many blessings that still surrounded him. The desolation he felt was all-consuming.
His mind became an icy wasteland, and the wind howled in his soul. Had an emotional bankruptcy occurred?
Thelma immediately returned to her art. Creating art helps relieve her stress. She felt her art washed from her soul. One day she felt nothing but the void that enveloped her mind in swirling blackness. Her art revealed blackness as the emptiness she felt of the lost. Another day colors glowed liked she never thought they could but were reminders of the flames, the heat, and the fire crews.
The church and local community gathered for a memorial service. They encircled the plot of land and a mound of ashes. It was a time of meditative silence with soft strands of violins in the background. Rose petals covered the mound of ashes.
This memorial symbolized new life. Plants and flowers will recover the earth that was so burnt. We lived here. We loved here. We recall it all. Now we move on.
This was another step toward healing.
At the close of meditative memorial and attendees were mingling with words of condolences. A little white-haired lady, remembering Edie, her friend asked Kenneth, “Will you re-build?”
He took her by the hand, “The old farmhouse was the only place I ever truly felt at home, the only house I ever loved. The family will move on now that the flames died too.” Down deep he thought words are easy to say.
The mental health professionals zoned in on choosing activities that triggered the relaxation response, such as deep breathing, yoga, and meditation. They felt one of the best ways to grow through their loss was to examine courageously all facets of their inner pain and learn new coping mechanisms as they create a new life.
The counselor asked the family to identify their loss. 'Whatever it is, write it fearlessly, even if it is sad and even if it hurts.
'I am grieving the loss of….
'I am longing for….
'I am mourning the death of….
They looked at their loss in the face. They read about it and talked about it.
The counselor said, “It is unbearably sad, left behind and disappointed. This is one unfortunate situation. Your entire world has not fallen apart, as it might seem. Loss is a reminder that life is a precious gift. You can survive.”
The family found that a host of emotions flooded their hearts. Not wanting to deny them, the counselor gave them a list of feelings. “Are you feeling angry? Depressed? Helpless? Frustrated? Sad? Violent? Or any other feelings you would like to add? Get your feelings down on paper, so you can look at them. What do you think your feelings are trying to tell you? Towards whom do you feel anger?”
As time passed, the family began to view their heart healing as an adventure. Working together through their loss and emotional issues, they could see that life is full of experiences preparing each of them for a rebirth.
The counselor emphasized that, “Every time you lose something, you're presented with an opportunity to gain something new.”
Listening intently Timothy spoke, “So, what you’re really saying is each day my life will have some irritant of loss.”
Anthony chimed in, “What she is saying, ‘Take the irritant of loss within your life each day and turn it into a jewel’.” Mary buried her head in her lap and groaned.
The family wrote stories and poems of favorite things, memorable events, memories and feelings of sadness, anger, hurt, and joy.
They created pictures of happy times and not so happy times. Their art revealed who they were, who they are and what lies ahead.
The family created a beautiful scrapbook, unveiling their pain and sorrow in words and pictures. It took time. The finale was the cover. Thelma drew two rosebuds tied together. The children drew petals unfolding from the buds,