Daily Prompt: Burnt. Remember yesterday, when your home was on fire and you got to save five items? That means you left a lot of stuff behind. What are the things you wish you could have taken, but had to leave behind?
I wanted to grab everything. Every picture, every piece of artwork, my leather jacket, the new jacket I just got David for Christmas, my scarves and hats and gloves, my boots, the printer, the monitor, the books–oh, man it would take me at least a couple of hours to get all of my books. Alas, you cannot. So what do you do?
Everything is burnt. Now what? You pick up the pieces and move on. Move forward. As shattering as it would be for our home to catch on fire, as long as we were all safe and I could get some of the things out of the house that are important to me because of sentimental value or maybe because it would be near to impossible to replace, I would be alright.
When I was 7 years old, my father died. I don’t have as many pictures as I would like to, nor do I have the stories or the talks, or the information about his childhood that I would like. Then his father died when I was 17. Same thing, I’m left wondering about my grandfather’s childhood, wondering if there are more pictures around of him, wondering what he’d have told me later on when I was an adult and we’d sat down over coffee or a coke. As I type this, out of 7 grandparents and 2 great grandparents (that were all alive when I was young) I now only have 1 step grandparent alive. You can replace material possessions: tv’s, computers, clothes, furniture, etc but you can’t replace things like a picture of your daddy at the age of 18, or the picture of your son at 6 mths old, or a picture that your daughter drew for you. You can’t replace the camera that your husband saved and worked hard to get you for your birthday, even though the two of you really didn’t have the money for it. Sure, you could get another camera, but it wouldn’t mean as much to you as the one he worked so hard to get you.
I’m watching my 6 1/2 mth old grandson sleep as I type this. There are some things I’d save that might mean something to him later on, just as the big black trunk that my grandfather used to travel with that now sits in my study and has some of my crafting stuff in it means the world to me. Or the bookcases that my grandmother gave me. Or the camera my dad gave me that was the first give my mom ever gave him. Or the bookends that were my fathers, or the sketch my daughter did of my dad.
If our house really caught on fire, I would grab what I could save that can’t really be replaced–the sentimental things, and I’d hope that I’d have been smart enough to back up my photos, files, etc so I’d be able to take all of that with me without having to take a whole bunch of disks, the tower to my computer, etc…And I’d take a few of the special things like my 1st edition Stephen King book, or the scrapbook from our wedding, or the scrapbook I’m working on now for a family member, or maybe the box of poetry and essays I have in the spare bedroom, or….. Truth is, even those things could be replaced, as much as it would hurt me to lose things that hold such sentimental value, I could live without them. What I could not live without would be the lives of those I love.