Heartbreaking

Some good friends of ours are in Utah awaiting the arrival of another grandchild. While they were gone, their house caught on fire and their youngest son barely made it out. They lost their dog, their son's actually, who was a big, lovable Saint Bernard in this fire. And, of course, irreplaceable personal items that chronicle their lives. My heart is breaking for them, especially because I can relate to this particular loss. When I was 14 years old, our home burned to the ground while we were on vacation. My own brother was the only one home, home from college, and barely made it out himself before there was an explosion. Thankfully, our pets survived, but nothing was left but the ends of the trailer we lived in. It was a hard thing to experience as a child, but my parents lost a good deal of their lives in it - antiques, Hummels and oil paintings from Germany, china from their wedding. And this was their 2nd fire in their life together. They'd had another shortly after they were married. One thing that was positive was that a box of photos and slides had been stored in a back closet and was salvagable.

I don't know how severe our friend's loss is, but the house is not habitable at the moment. My husband will be helping their sons move what they can salvage out of the house tomorrow night. I know, and I know they know, that the important thing is that their son is safe, but that does not remove the pain of the loss of a lifetime of personal items. I just wish there was something I could do for them. Holding it in all day, now that the house is quiet, I've been able to let out the tears I've been pushing away all day - for the loss of their sweet, lovable dog and all the material things dear to their hearts, but especially for their son who despite this clearly being an accident, was cooking dinner and fell asleep and I'm sure is feeling a great deal of guilt.