So, I’ve been pretty much MIA lately (except Mondays because Monday Poems!) because parts of our house burned down Tuesday last week. Nobody got hurt and most of our possessions are safe, thank God.
I didn’t think it would be *that* difficult to cope. I have never been so traumatized, helplessly watching from afar as the fire consumes every single thing I own. I stood there waiting for some kind of miracle to happen because God knows right at that moment I really needed divine intervention.
Then the miracle happened.
Our home remained the home I grew up in. It smelled like burnt rubber and icky stuff but it felt the same. My windows were broken, clothes were soaking wet, it was dark because there was no power, but seeing my house unscathed comforted me in ways I cannot put into words. My books were unharmed (hallelu!), my computer was salvaged, and all the cosmetic stuff I wasted a whole lot of $$$ on were all there, spotless.
It was a rough eight-day vacation away from home but I was never alone. My chips were almost down but my friends were by my side to offer what they can. My phone was flooded with messages. Even people I did not expect to show up dropped by to comfort, to talk, and to share.
Also, I know I’m a day late but here is my contribution to the Semicolon Project. I was on the edge the past week but here I am, writing a long ass blog post for you all. I’ll live.