Kindnesses

So I have been thinking a lot about the kindnesses of friends and strangers and how each small thing has helped me in some way.

Today at the Starbucks drive-through (I'm surviving on caffeine and adrenaline, don't judge) the woman in front of me paid for my latte. I was nearly brought to tears - and I have hardly cried (can't say never, but hardly) during this whole experience. If she only knew what a lift that small gesture gave me. If she only knew that every day is filled with tiny struggles and what pleasure I get from that coffee ... and then to have it presented to me, as a gift ...

My lacrosse team got together and gave me a card and a gift card last night. Again, I struggled not to cry. What an amazing group of girls and parents, not least of whom is a head coach I've loved working with over the years. I tried to explain to my team what a gift it is to be able to coach them. Not only because I love to watch them play - this crowd of strong, smart, spirited girls - but also because when I am on that field for a lacrosse game, I can think of absolutely nothing else for that hour. All of my troubles are erased and I am completely in the moment of that game, that time, that place. It's such a blessing. This is my seventh season coaching lacrosse, and this group of girls stands out for me. I have loved every team I've coached - but this team has a unity and a passion that just shines. So, maybe there's a reason I'm coaching this group at this time in my life. I'm not sure how much I believe in fate or a grand plan or even a higher power. But sometimes some things seem like more than just a coincidence.

Back to the night of the fire, one firefighter from Montgomery County stood out. I wish we knew his name. He brought us a pile of warm jackets and sweatshirts from my closet after the fire was out, while the investigators were doing their job and the crews were rolling up their hoses and preparing to leave. We were still standing in the driveway, wondering if we'd be allowed to go back into the house, and he saw us and realized we were cold. Then he went back in and brought out the kids' glasses and phones. I think this is also the same firefighter who told my husband that he had noticed Barry's wedding ring on a dresser in our room, and slipped it into a drawer so that nothing would happen to it. The thoughtfulness of that ... that in the middle of a fire a complete stranger would notice a wedding ring and try to keep it safe ... again, I have no words.

There are so many more, too many to list ... friends and acquaintances who called and texted with offers of housing, or storage for our things ... complete strangers on Facebook who tried to help with finding a rental home for us ... the absolute courtesy and gentleness of the professionals who came to take away our clothing, our furniture, our books, our food ... the friend who showed up, the morning after the fire, with beer (she knows us well) and a bouquet of flowers. Who would think of that, really? She said she thought I might need to look at something pretty. And she was right. I did need to look at something pretty, but I didn't even know it until she arrived with an armful of flowers.

Last night as we were driving home, my daughter and I were discussing the new furniture we planned, the changes we would like to make to the house (everyone keeps telling us, there's no better time), and she said it was almost like we had won the lottery. Immediately I thought of the hundreds of expenses, some big and some small, so many of which will never be recovered no matter how good our insurance, and I told her that no, it wasn't like that at all.

But I realized just now that I need to tell her, I was wrong. We did win the lottery. We are all fine. We are all safe. We are all here.

Prelude

So, I've been advised to start a blog with what promises to be fabulous summer adventures for the Miller family. Seemed like a good way to keep family and friends updated on our progress (I know, I'm getting ahead of myself; be patient) ... and might be cathartic as well.

First, the background.

Last weekend we had a fire. A middle-of-the-night, smelling-smoke, seeing flames, emergency wake-up-the-kids-and-get-the-hell-out-of-the-house kind of fire.

It was scary.

It was 2:30 a.m., more or less, and cold, and we were all in pajamas or what passes for pajamas in our house, and of course barefoot, and we all stood/sat/wandered around the yard and driveway watching as what seemed like a dozen fire trucks and a hundred firefighters (I know it wasn't that many, but it seemed so at the time) arrived, got the fire under control, and slowly departed.

Let me pause here for a moment to say how incredibly grateful I am to the firefighters, most of whom are volunteers who gave up a night with their own families (and do so frequently) so that they could come save our house and our family. I will never be able to repay this. I can't even begin to try.

So ... in the aftermath, we were cold and shocked and muddled. I drove the kids to their Nana's to catch a few hours of sleep. Drove back home and tried to sleep for an hour with Barry in Cole's bunk bed. Got up around eight and started to get it together.

Almost immediately it became clear that we wouldn't be able to stay in the house. I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Now it seems delusional but I actually thought we'd be out only a night or two. We are now going on night 12 in an extended-stay type hotel. Not a bad place as these places go. Pretty new and pretty clean and there is breakfast for the kids before school. If there were only a Starbucks nearby, and if only Ivy could be here with us, I think I'd be pretty content to stay forever.

But not really ... because we are 30 minutes from home and the driving is KILLING me. The traffic is a nightmare. I don't know how anyone lives in L.A. I'd surely shoot myself.

So we began looking for a rental home to stay in during the (four? six? eight?) months that we will likely be out of our house. Unfortunately, in Western HoCo, rental homes are very few and very far between, and mostly very, very expensive ... and very dog-unfriendly.

Hey, I can't blame them. A family of 5, with two dogs, one a Tibetan Mastiff ... no way would I rent to us. So no hard feelings. But we needed to come up with another plan.

Hence, Operation RV. It's not actually going to be an RV. It's going to be a trailer. I've never spent any significant time in a trailer, though we did discover last summer that we as a family actually do enjoy tent camping, but I'm not naive enough to think that camping at the beach for five days will compare in the slightest to living in a trailer with two teenagers, a college kid and two dogs for an entire summer (or longer).

There are bound to be some entertaining moments. So I'm going to try and keep up with the story here, mainly so our out-of-town friends and family can know what's going on with us. (I'll give you a hint: It likely will involve lots of alcoholic beverages).