The Fire!

Part of the “tools of the trade” as a minister of religion is a portable Communion Set.  My father’s portable set was made up of a lovely handmade box containing 4 little glass cups, a tiny silver plate for the bread, a linen cloth and a wooden cross that he had made.  After my father passed away I carefully stored his Communion set in a wardrobe in our spare room at home. 

In order to give this story some perspective I need to share a timeline of events leading up to the fire.

My father passed away in 2000, 14 months later my mother passed way, in 2003 we fostered a young person, and in 2004 we experienced a fire!

Thursday, 30 December 2004, will forever be etched in our memory as one of the most traumatic and life-changing days – a massive fire broke out in the ceiling of our house.

Contrary to the popular belief about how we would react  in an event of a fire breaking out: “I will save my prized record/cd collection or my paintings, or even a lipstick!”  You know that discussion, we have from time to time with friends and family, the “What if?”…?

Believe me, you don’t do anything of the sort, your brain kind of shuts down and goes into survival mode, you run outside, hook up the garden hose and haul it into the house in an attempt to control the blaze.  That is of course after you call the fire department!

That is what I did.

I ran around inside a burning house looking for our beloved pets, (an interesting fact; cats run away, far away from the fire.  Dogs are inclined to hide under beds or in wardrobes.)  Our cats survived, as did and two of our three dogs.  Clarissa, the dog we couldn’t save, hid in a wardrobe and passed away from smoke inhalation.   It took me years to overcome the devastating effect of the loss of Clarissa, I was wracked with guilt of “why didn’t I or if only I….”

Whilst reminiscing about that event, an overwhelming emotion of extreme gratitude and thankfulness that the fire broke out during the day (if my memory serves me correctly, it was mid-morning). Thankfully most of our neighbours were home and rushed to assist us.

En masse they descended on our house. As the firemen entered the house, everyone formed a human chain as they passed furniture to each other. My brother-in-law sent a Fruit and Veg truck to our house with a stack of empty boxes. People grabbed crockery, cutlery, pots and pans and stuffed them into boxes; others packed our clothes into black bags and the like. Our dear friend Salvelio, took me to St George’s hospital for a medical check-up and a sedative.  (I was hysterical and my hands, face  and feet were so red and hot from being in the house for a long time trying to fight the fire as well as hunt for our pets). One of the neighbourhood kids was overheard giving instruction to folk loading furniture onto the fruit and veg truck:  “Please be careful not to damage the furniture!”. Another neighbour very kindly made sandwiches, tea and coffee for the firefighters and folk who assisted with the packing and clearing up. 

Strangers, friends and neighbours alike, played an incredible part in assisting us by taking care of our pets, taking in a dog whilst the other little one spent a few nights in hospital, as well as organising for our cats to board free of charge at an animal shelter in Kirkwood and one of our neighbours took us in until we were able to find alternative accommodation.

The days following the fire were very stressful and trying, I am not going to bore you with all the nitty gritty details of insurance companies as well dealing with a fire department who accused us of arson!

However, the biggest lesson I learned while sifting through the rubble in one of the bedrooms we made a startling discovery, in the midst of debris, charred and burnt bits of furniture, we found the wooden cross from my father’s portable communion set. Books, clothing, furniture, the balance of the contents of the communion set were all destroyed and reduced to ash, yet that seemingly flimsy little cross was still intact.

Once matters had settled down, and we had found wonderful accommodation four ourselves and our beloved pets, I made an appointment to consult with a psychologist who was so kind, gentle, supportive and calm. In those sessions, I cried, sometimes I sobbed, laughed, we shared jokes, and more importantly I addressed the “what if?” scenarios that made me feel guilty and anxious about not doing enough to stop the fire!

Yes, that wooden cross, will always serve as a reminder to me that I survived, I am loved and I have so much to be grateful for.