grab and run

What would you snatch up if you had to run out of your home because it was on fire?  Last night A grabbed his laptop and back-up hard drive, I seized my darling little cat and stuffed her into her travel box in one smooth movement and grabbed my beloved childhood toy Threadbare Tedbear.  At first, as we all stood outside shivering and watched as four fire engines' worth of firefighters struggle to conquer the blaze, I thought that I could not possibly lose my home and recover.  Not after everything else that has happened the past 3 years.

Then, as the fire showed signs of spreading and a chunk of the roof caved in I realised that A was standing next to me, cradling our darling little cat's box in his arms and knew that everything I needed was right there and, if necessary, everything else could be replaced or let go.

By 1.30 this morning, the blaze was out.  The fire didn't spread to our end of the building and we were allowed back in.  We, and everything around us, smells of smoke but we are safe and our home is safe.  One staircase over, though, is a very different story.  The flat where the fire started is gutted and the five below and across are soaked.  I went over this morning to help a neighbour who had returned to try and salvage some items from her drenched flat, and standing in the stairwell I could see sky.

All of us here in this community have experienced loss and we are, every one of us, all too acutely aware that life is fragile.  Watching flames lick their way across to my home, my safe and constant place, made me realise this as if for the first time.