I am simply glad to say this: I am thankful that February is over. I am thankful that it wasn’t as bad as it ultimately could have been, but I have to admit, I’m glad that there will never be another February 2011.
We confirmed it the week following the fire, once they let people in to salvage what they could, that neither of our two wonderful cats survived. I don’t know if they were simply too scared to escape, or if we were just not present-minded enough to leave any doors open. I’ve been struggling with how to continue helping Logan understand that they won’t be coming back to us – I haven’t told him that they died. And I’m not going to, not for now. Normally I take a fairly firm attitude that openness and honesty are best when it comes to these kinds of things. But I feel very simple about this one: I am not and will not compound a trauma that he is already having a hard time understanding and processing with the knowledge that Kali and Kitty did not make it. Will I explain it to him in the future, once he’s older and if he asks about it? Absolutely. At this moment in time however, he just doesn’t need it.
Its two weeks since everything has happened. In that two weeks, however, through the wonderful kindness of strangers, co-workers, friends and family I can honestly say that we are pretty well back on our feet. Our tax return, which we were planning on saving, instead went to essentially refurnishing our essentials for living (like beds, pots and pans, etc) and a few things around for the garden and self-sufficiency that we were planning on getting anyway.
Last night, at both of the kids insistence through the last two weeks, we finally stopped at the local humane society. And we found a kitty that both of the kids fell absolutely in love with. He’s shy still, of course, but very adorable. I’m not sure how I feel about it – its a mixed bag of feelings, to be honest. I am less upset by it than I feared I would be, but it is definitely a sore spot for me.
Something rather amazing, though, is that through all of the days following the fire, I had assumed my camera would be lost. The week after everything happened, the managers started letting people attempt to salvage what they could from their apartments. Truman went over one afternoon (the same one that we found out that both of the cats had died) and retrieved some things with the help of the maintenance workers. One of the things they salvaged was my camera, which was sitting in the living room, in its velcro’d shut leather case. He brought it home to me, and I immediately took it out of its smoke damaged case and took some photos. It works. So here are a few photos from the last week, including the first photos I snapped with it as well as some from Lilly’s birthday. My baby is no longer really a baby as a walking and talking, two going on sixteen girl.