556.

556 days.

556 days since our life flipped upside down as we knew it, and quite literally, went down in flames. On October 22, 2018, we lost our family home to fire; a fire that came through with such speed and intensity, it was less than half an hour before what we called home was reduced to a pile of ashes and rubble. When I think back to that day, I can help but feel a wide range of emotions:

Gratitude for “motherly instincts” or whatever it is you’d like to call them. I will never understand why I ended up going down the hall and waking a sick Aurora up from a much-needed nap only half an hour in that day. When the fire started, it started in the attic right above where her sweet little head was sleeping … I will never know if there was smoke or any flame in her room, as I didn’t look, but I can only thank my lucky stars I had removed her from her crib just 10 minutes earlier.

I am thankful for having been home that day and being able to get our sweet pups out with us. It wasn’t an easy task to get the dogs over our electric fence line, even with collars removed (old habits die hard), but I did it and somehow didn’t scar the dogs for life in the process!

Exhausted, as the year and a half that have followed have been anything but restful. Queue moving twice, a newborn, a flood and now a global pandemic closing schools, daycares and having us social distance while working from home, but hell – sleep is for the dead!

Appreciation, for our amazing local volunteer fire department who came and did their very best to extinguish the flames. Their selflessness in the face of disaster is not lost on my family and we really, truly, are so grateful for your willingness to stop everything to take a fire call.

Love, for the amazing community in which we’ve chosen to live, love and raise a family. They always say, “it takes a village” and in our time of need, our village stepped up in ways I will never forget. My appreciation and love for all of those who rallied in support of our little family will never waver!

Finally – hope. Anyone who has experienced losing a home can tell you about the feeling of hopelessness following this kind of loss. So many unanswered questions, hypotheticals and unknowns. I am so incredibly grateful we all got out safely, as the severity of the trauma would have amplified my grief in ways I am not sure I would have been able to handle. Things really are just things – they are replaceable. But cataloguing and quantifying the home in which we started out as a family and brought babies home to is anything but easy – it certainly felt hopeless at times! Not to mention, I was 7 weeks pregnant and I didn’t even know how to wrap my head around the new little human growing inside of me during a period of so much stress and uncertainty. That said – they say hindsight is 20/20 and now, 526 days later, I feel hopeful. We’ve proven, time and time again, we are resilient and adaptable. Our children are AMAZING and have been able to weather nearly every storm with patience, grace and compassion. It has been anything but easy, but has been a journey that I wouldn’t change as it’s brought us closer as a family and taught us incredibly valuable lessons. We lost things, sure, but we held on to the very most important things in our lives and that’s what matters most.

1 day.

I am SO excited to say that tomorrow we are moving into our new home! We have officially done our walk. through and fallen head over heels in love with every square foot and seen our vision become reality, as this home has been the brainchild of both Chris and I for over 550 days. We snapped the cheesy excitement fuelled pictures, danced through all of our empty rooms and laid down on the floor to check out the ceiling. We are ready for this new, big change, and our move into our forever home and I cannot wait to drag you along for the ride! Here we go!

Share this post with your friends!

Share on facebook
Facebook
Share on pinterest
Pinterest