It is Just Stuff
I am sitting here in my house all alone, feeling sick to my stomach, and there is nothing I can do about it. I have dealt with the crisis, and now I need my husband to come home from Scout camp to share this burden with me. So instead, I am blogging. I know, I am a nut case.
Last night because Max and Gregg were at Scout camp, I decided to take Jacey to go get something to eat. It took us a little longer to decide what we wanted because neither one of us wanted to make the decision. We finally opted for pizza, and brought it home to eat. Thinking that we were going to watch a rerun movie (because there was nothing at the video store to rent), we came home to eat our dinner, and have a relaxing evening at home.
That certainly didn't pan out. When we opened the door to our house. EVERY FIRE ALARM IN THE HOUSE WAS GOING OFF. My first intial thought was that we had a fire somewhere, but that was not the case. It took only seconds to realize the magnitude of the problem. I ran upstairs yelling "OH NO! OH NO! OH NO!" Jacey followed me. Probably a little shocked at her mother's behavior, and a lot shocked at the condition of her house that kept falling apart as we watched. Water from the laundry room was gushing into every room of my house. (Whose idea was it anyway to put the laundry room on the second floor?) I sloshed through the water and quickly turned it off, and then started damage control.
After a quick assessment, I knew that this would not be a clean up effort I could handle, nor my handy husband even if he were home. I needed to contact 1.) my insurance company 2.) a disaster recovery company and 3.) my husband.
Of course something like this would happen when the insurance office was closed, and at the begining of a weekend to boot. Also, there was nothing listed under disaster recovery in the phone book, and I was not thinking rationally to figure out what else it might be categorized under. Thank goodness the 24-hour hot line for my insurance company was able to give me the name of a company that they recommended. The disaster recovery company was there an hour and a half later. By then I had sheet rock falling off my ceilings. Every floor of my house has damage. Thankfully, I was blessed to have fabulous in-laws that knew how to contact my husband, and good friends that knew how to contact my insurance agent after hours. (I am sure he loved that, but it gave me peace of mind.)
The first initial walk through with the disaster recovery company was quite sobering, and learned that this is going to take a couple of months to repair. They were very kind, and answered all my stupid questions, and even told me (when I told them to) that my house was not as dirty as others they had been in.
I had a steady stream of people coming in and out of my house asking if there was something they could do. Wonderful neighbors that went room to room documenting damage, and lending buckets and towels for whatever they might be needed for. Most of them I could tell wanted to help me, but in all reality, there was nothing they could do. I even told Gregg to stay at camp with Max, and I left my house as well. I left the workers inside (which was a hard thing for me to do) and slept at our friends.
As I laid in bed trying to sleep, I knew I need to offer a prayer to my Heavenly Father to thank Him for helping me through this huge adventure, but what I was feeling was hard to put into words. Yes, I was feeling grateful for all of the blessings pouring down on me, but it was wierd because I didn't feel the need to ask Him for anything. Everything that had been damaged . . . was just stuff. None of it is important. Yes, it is my house, and it is our sanctuary away from the world, but WE are okay. After my first prayer, another was on its way. I did think of something to ask for. My house is my temple here on earth, and it has been dedicated through the priesthood to play such a role, I asked for help to be with the workers as they fix my home, that it will be able to continue to be my place of refuge in the future.
Gregg and I sometimes talk about moving, which freaks Jacey out. Last night I told her we are going to get a new house. It will just happen to be right where the old one was.
Last night because Max and Gregg were at Scout camp, I decided to take Jacey to go get something to eat. It took us a little longer to decide what we wanted because neither one of us wanted to make the decision. We finally opted for pizza, and brought it home to eat. Thinking that we were going to watch a rerun movie (because there was nothing at the video store to rent), we came home to eat our dinner, and have a relaxing evening at home.
That certainly didn't pan out. When we opened the door to our house. EVERY FIRE ALARM IN THE HOUSE WAS GOING OFF. My first intial thought was that we had a fire somewhere, but that was not the case. It took only seconds to realize the magnitude of the problem. I ran upstairs yelling "OH NO! OH NO! OH NO!" Jacey followed me. Probably a little shocked at her mother's behavior, and a lot shocked at the condition of her house that kept falling apart as we watched. Water from the laundry room was gushing into every room of my house. (Whose idea was it anyway to put the laundry room on the second floor?) I sloshed through the water and quickly turned it off, and then started damage control.
After a quick assessment, I knew that this would not be a clean up effort I could handle, nor my handy husband even if he were home. I needed to contact 1.) my insurance company 2.) a disaster recovery company and 3.) my husband.
Of course something like this would happen when the insurance office was closed, and at the begining of a weekend to boot. Also, there was nothing listed under disaster recovery in the phone book, and I was not thinking rationally to figure out what else it might be categorized under. Thank goodness the 24-hour hot line for my insurance company was able to give me the name of a company that they recommended. The disaster recovery company was there an hour and a half later. By then I had sheet rock falling off my ceilings. Every floor of my house has damage. Thankfully, I was blessed to have fabulous in-laws that knew how to contact my husband, and good friends that knew how to contact my insurance agent after hours. (I am sure he loved that, but it gave me peace of mind.)
The first initial walk through with the disaster recovery company was quite sobering, and learned that this is going to take a couple of months to repair. They were very kind, and answered all my stupid questions, and even told me (when I told them to) that my house was not as dirty as others they had been in.
I had a steady stream of people coming in and out of my house asking if there was something they could do. Wonderful neighbors that went room to room documenting damage, and lending buckets and towels for whatever they might be needed for. Most of them I could tell wanted to help me, but in all reality, there was nothing they could do. I even told Gregg to stay at camp with Max, and I left my house as well. I left the workers inside (which was a hard thing for me to do) and slept at our friends.
As I laid in bed trying to sleep, I knew I need to offer a prayer to my Heavenly Father to thank Him for helping me through this huge adventure, but what I was feeling was hard to put into words. Yes, I was feeling grateful for all of the blessings pouring down on me, but it was wierd because I didn't feel the need to ask Him for anything. Everything that had been damaged . . . was just stuff. None of it is important. Yes, it is my house, and it is our sanctuary away from the world, but WE are okay. After my first prayer, another was on its way. I did think of something to ask for. My house is my temple here on earth, and it has been dedicated through the priesthood to play such a role, I asked for help to be with the workers as they fix my home, that it will be able to continue to be my place of refuge in the future.
Gregg and I sometimes talk about moving, which freaks Jacey out. Last night I told her we are going to get a new house. It will just happen to be right where the old one was.
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