One month

It’s been a full month. A month of some of the lowest lows….but also the occasional bright flash of light, love, and hope. ✨

I still can’t pinpoint exactly when we knew our house was gone. There’s not a single moment when it clicked. There was a gradual body of evidence collected, but no single photo or video or phone call where we went from “it might be ok” to “our house is completely gone.” With every mounting piece of proof, there was still some small glimmer of hope that it was wrong, that we were far enough into the neighborhood that we wouldn’t be impacted.

It’s like the boiling a frog metaphor people often use. Something increases slowly enough that you don’t notice it….and then suddenly, it’s done. From around 2pm on December 30th until about 2am on December 31st, our frog was slowly boiled. In 12 hours we went from “let’s get out of this smoke and we’ll come back later tonight” to “everything we’ve ever owned is gone and we have nowhere to live.” It’s quite the mental and emotional game of twister, and it took days for it to sink in. 

Honestly, it probably still hasn’t completely sunk in. I still see things I want to buy, but then think “Ah, we have something similar…” before remembering that’s not true anymore. We’re still remembering all the things we’ll miss from our stuff: the UMLY swimming parka I’ve had since I was 10, the crochet fox I made for Avery when she was little, the handmade blankets and crafts friends and family made for the kids before they were born, the Christmas ornaments from Nick’s childhood, the wooden plate Nick’s grandfather made for our wedding day, our well-seasoned cast iron pan, our medals from Ironman races — the list goes on and on and on. 

Neither of us are particularly sentimental about belongings — but when everything you’ve kept as a memory vanishes without warning, it’s a lot to lose at once. 

More Bad News: As we’ve started to deal with the logistics, decisions, and emotional toll of losing our home and everything in it….we’ve then been hit down a few more times. Theo’s scary trip to the emergency room as he was struggling to breathe was definitely a low. And then this last week, we lost our sweet cat, Eddie, who I adopted in 2006 and has been by my side ever since. It’s just all…a lot.

I never imagined that explaining the death of a pet we all adored would be the 2nd hardest conversation we’d have with our 3 year old in just a couple weeks. But it was. As Avery has come to terms with the loss of our house, her room, and all her toys/clothes, it made the loss of Eddie a little easier to explain. She still doesn’t really get it all, but she’s asking the right questions and we’re trying to provide good answers. “Is Eddie gone like our house is gone?” “Yes, kiddo, Eddie isn’t coming back and neither is our house or our stuff.”

Parenting: Plus, life as a parent right now is just HARD. All parents of kids under 5 are dealing with constant Covid-19 exposure notices, classroom closures, quarantines, nasal swabs, and staying away from public spaces. Since January 1, Avery has had 3 Covid exposures, and Theo has had 1. Somehow, they still test negative every day (yes, we’re now testing nearly every day, thanks for those 4 tests President Biden), so we’re just keeping our fingers crossed they stay healthy and we can keep them in their school routine as much as possible. We need it, but they need it too.

Thanks to a successful last week, we now have 11 of the last 25 weekdays where both kids have been able to go to daycare: 🎉

So, where are the glimmers of light? Honestly, a bit of everywhere. They’re a constant thread. Old friends sending boxes of memories and love. Strangers hosting donation centers with brand new toys and supplies. Our new Louisville friends and neighbors becoming family as we navigate this together. A last night of snuggles with Eddie before he passed. An amazing fundraising drive for the Community Foundation of Boulder County — where I was announced as the top fundraiser ($8800+ raised in 2 days!) before the 5K Run for Fire Relief last weekend. Extra time with Granny and Gramps on the weekends to fill the kids’ buckets (you should have seen Theo’s excitement as we arrived today!). Warm and delicious meals delivered by friends, new and old. Supportive coworkers and bosses who are helping us have the time we need to get things together before we go back to work. The list goes on and on and on. If you’ve reached out, dropped a note, sent a gift, or just had us in your thoughts, these are our glimmers of light. Thank you again. 💗

What’s next: In a week, we move to our next rental (where we plan to stay until we have our longer term options decided). We’re waiting to hear more from FEMA, the city, the HOA, etc. about debris cleanup timelines and cost, rebuild options, etc. The rebuild-the-old-house option is a big question mark with countless paths it could take. We won’t know much for a while about whether this path makes sense for us as our long-term place to live.

So we’re keeping our eyes on the housing market and going to see houses that fit our criteria. We’re hoping the options increase as we enter Spring, and perhaps we’ll settle into something new in the coming months – we’ll see!

In two weeks, we’ll both be back to work and back to “normal” – with a more reasonable commute to daycare, more space in the new rental house for all of us, and we’ll be continuing to spend our free time rebuilding our lives and making tons of decisions with limited information.

This last month has felt like approximately 93 years in some ways. But it also seems like just yesterday we were worried about putting away our Christmas decorations and rebuilding our fence. Our to-do lists are simultaneously much shorter (well, we don’t have to renovate the kitchen anymore!) but also much much longer (#427: Buy a stapler).

We’re looking forward to getting back to normal(ish) soon.

---

Edwin Kleinschmidt – July 4, 2006-January 25, 2022