On a Personal Note...

It's been a pretty surreal month.

This is the longest I’ve ever gone in between posts. My apologies.

More than Just a Cookie Jar

It’s been a surreal month to say the least. Unless you were living under a rock, everyone by now is aware of the horrible LA (Palisades and Eaton), fires. Needless to say, fires are scary, especially when the dreaded “must evacuate” alarm goes off on your personal cell phone. Mine (and many others), was a false alarm, but not without consequences.

Thankfully, we were far enough south of the Palisades that bad smokey air was the worst of it, at least physically. Emotionally, this fire wrenched my heart in a million ways. Twelve thousand homes were totally destroyed, with an additional one thousand homes damaged. Last but not least, 29 precious lives were lost.

Imagine: twelve thousand homes totally destroyed. I never had my home totally destroyed (albeit it came close in the San Diego Cedar fire), but did lose 95% of everything I ever owned as a result of a freak (storage) pod accident. I can’t even begin to tell you what that was like, despite still having a home and a warm bed to come home to. Consequently, my heart truly aches for every loss—whether it was someone’s most treasured memory or just some silly, bad movie on the shelf. It all matters, because everything in our homes is in some way a part of us.

In no way can I compare my “material only” loss to also losing my home. Regardless, I still found myself going through the five stages of grief. I finally got to my acceptance stage by realizing how “freeing” this all was. In fact, so free and unburdened, for the first time, I could finally afford to live in beautiful Santa Barbara. I no longer needed a house to fit 5 rooms of furniture and decades of my stuff. Voilà! The next thing I knew, I was driving up the 101 heading to my new home, as the new me, the minimalist!

And so, as a minimalist I lived… until my Prince Charming came back into my life. That’s another story, another time, except to say that hubby still has the clothes he wore in high school!

So, what’s with the cookie jar? Being one of eight kids, I only remember twice as a kid, just the two of us, going shopping with my mom. If you are old enough to remember the S&H Green Stamp Stores, that’s where we went shopping that day. Mom said it was my turn to pick the green stamp gift. I picked the cookie jar in the photo, which grew to become a family favorite. It remains, along with my high school yearbooks, one of my most missed possessions from my pod accident. Most of all, it was so rare to have alone time with my mom. The gingerbread cookie jar remains one of my most cherished memories.

We have all experienced loss in our lives, whether it's something or someone we loved dearly. And of course, we all have those moments when the reality of what or who we lost hits us, often out of the blue.

I have been reflecting a lot especially on the sentimental losses experienced by the fire victims.

If the fires weren’t enough drama, I was also scheduled for knee replacement surgery in Santa Monica mid-January. My hospital did have to cancel surgeries a day after the fires began, but did remain open for my scheduled surgery. Truth be told I wasn’t a bit nervous about the surgery, albeit was terribly worried that the hospital would have to be evacuated. Thankfully all went well.

Still recovering from the surgery, a week later I felt well enough to make a big pot of my lentil soup. I remember the day so well. It was like mid-summer. The Santa Ana winds were in full force, every window and door in the house was wide open, and the gentle pounding of waves made for a close to perfect atmosphere. Even the smokey air had cleared. I even mentioned to my husband that I almost felt guilty for enjoying the day so much, knowing that our Northern LA friends in Santa Clarita were still battling flames.

After that, somewhere between putting the olive oil into the soup pot, I was in shock to see 3-foot-high flames over my stove. I’m still not even sure how that could have happened. Thankfully, I had a fire blanket sitting close by, screaming downstairs to my husband for help. Without question, our kitchen, most likely the entire house, and quite possible (especially considering the strong Santa Ana’s), the entire neighborhood, would have been in flames.

Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck. I remain forever thankful for whatever made me buy that fire blanket 3 years ago (so not-my-style to buy from a pop-up ad). If you don’t have one, I hope you consider buying one and keeping it close by. Kitchen fires especially are really scary. I can’t remember exactly where I bought this, but I do know that Amazon sells fire blankets.

If that wasn’t enough, despite being beyond thankful for one of the best ortho docs in the country, post-surgical knee pain still sucks. This wasn’t a good experience for me, realizing what a whiny “patient” I am. My poor sister (who was kind enough to visit and help me out), and husband had to put up with, well, me. Hopefully, the worst of it is now over. I’m back to driving, and the pain is much more tolerable.

I’ve had more time to just “think” than I usually do. I admit to my head being a bit foggy at times with pain meds (taking as little as possible) but at least have been clear-headed enough to realize how so many, so worse off, would gladly trade places with me.

Isn’t it interesting that especially when disasters strike, we have the human tendency to think that it always happens to “somebody else, certainly not me?”

It’s so easy to get caught up in our own struggles—pain, fear, frustration. And in the moment, they feel like everything. But perspective has a way of humbling us. I spent weeks consumed by my own physical pain, but at least I had a home to recover in. So many people lost everything, and I can’t stop thinking about that.

If nothing else, this has reminded me how much we take for granted. No matter what we are going through, there is always something—some comfort, some kindness, some small miracle—to be grateful for. And that gratitude is everything!

Last but not least, Rest In Peace to the 29 beautiful lost souls.