Many of you who are reading this first blog entry know me personally, I want to thank you for feeling the pull to connect with me here and hear this story.
When I was diagnosed with cancer 6 years ago I head a quiet voice from the inside telling me to keep a blog, to record what I was feeling and going thru. ‘You have no idea how valuable this will be for you and others” that voice said.
Unfortunately I followed thru only slightly in the midst of my cancer journey, call it fear of saying what I felt out loud, call it fatigue, but most of all now I call it a lack of believing that what I write would have a place of worth in the world, a wanting to know that it would be well received or appreciated by the reader.
Well, I’m done with all that now, today is 6 years later and I have grown in to a different version of me that leaves that foolishness behind. Today I write, simply because I hear the quiet little whisper again, a little voice that says, just do it, let go of any thoughts of efficiency or outcome and just write it down.
Hosting it here on LenaWinslow.com is a way of creating a sacred quiet little corner of the internet universe to hold all of this for me. With that I’m out of excises and on to going with the flow, one step at a time.
Sat June 29 2024. As I sit here quietly with my family all in the same house, my sisters house, I find myself processing the swirl of last week.
On Tuesday evening June 25, 2024 around 10 pm we were ready to drift of to sleep, a thunderstorm rolled in rather quickly, nothing unusual for Florida. Katherine, our 18 year old daughter who happens to have special needs and Timothy, our 11 year old boy and our 5 year old yellow Labrador Tucker were already asleep, our 16 year old was away on a week long summer trip with his friends.
Suddenly we heard an air ripping cracking sound as if a dry tree was being snapped in half by a giant from some fairytale. David and I rushed out of our bedroom to check on the kids and the electronic equipment because we have had to repair TV and internet equipment due to power surges in the past.
Katherine came out of her room awaken and frightened as Timothy continued sleeping. In the next few minutes we began to smell a sort of burning and hazy smoke appeared. Our lights were flickering and David said to me, I can’t see anything that could be causing this smell here, I either go up in the attic or we call someone.
Without hesitation I couldn’t get the words out of me fast enough… “WE CALL SOMEONE”. With our daughters special needs we learned to use non threatening language around her to not set off her anxiety past where it was already. We both knew we were calling emergency services but wording it in this way allowed us to communicate with each other and also allow for a few extra minutes to explain to Katherine what was about to happen.
I quickly grabbed a bag that was partly packed with notebooks from a previous trip and put our passports in that bag, I also grabbed all the folders containing our birth certificates and what ever else I included in that “a important documents” envelope years ago.
Call this a remnant of growing up in the Soviet Union where without proper identification nothing was possible and retrieval of this identification if lost was a lengthy impossible process.
The sheriffs car arrived first, sirens blaring, his first question was, how many people, pets, where is everyone. David met him first, as I was getting the documents. He told us to get our cars out of the way because they were going to need all the space for the soon to arrive fire trucks. I loaded Katherine in my mini van, Tucker the yellow Lab and Timothy got in the truck with Dave and we rolled out of our driveway. I called my neighbors, on one side to warn her and her small kids of what was heading our way with sirens blaring, then I called my neighbor on the other side… I couldn’t be more grateful when I heard her voice on the line as she picked up the phone
“Are you in town? I asked, can we park in your driveway”. Yes she said, what ever you need, no questions asked.
As Dave and I piled in to the neighbors driveway the fire trucks began to arrive, one and then another and another… to the total of 5 fire trucks and 30 firefighters. I mostly stayed with the kids, going between our two of our vehicles, keeping them calm and wishing I had remembered to grab a couple of pillows and blankets for them to stretch out on the back seat of the cars.
I called my sister and brother in law, it was late and they were both sound asleep, I took a few pictures and sent a few updates to the family text thread.
The minutes ticked by slowly, I watched the comings and goings of the people in uniform, carrying things and talking to each other. They found something they called a hot spot, they put water on it. As they were finishing up with the scene they asked if they could help me get a few things, our neighbors graciously invited us to sleep at their house for the night.
A firefighter carrying a flash light flowed me to all the kids rooms one by one as I grabbed what ever came to mind, favorite pajamas for my daughter, shorts and t shirts for my son, dog food for Tucker, at the last minute the firefighter asked if I wanted the dog crate too.
How brilliant! Of course! He would feel a sense of safety in that space and our neighbors dogs and him could chill.
I noticed how sticky and slow my normally quick and logical ‘think tank” was. The brain was working as if was running in molasses. The decision power was there but in sort of a slow motion.
I learned over the years not to fight brain fog but observe and adapt to it. Fighting and wishing it away only raises anxiety levels and slows everything down even further. I knew i would do better to just take everything as it was and simply act on my next step without judging it’s speed in the best way I can.
We locked every door of the house and went over to the neighbors house to sleep. As I lie awake and listen to Tucker bark in his crate ( better than wondering around their house for sure) gratitude fills every fiber of my being. We are safe, we have the most incredible community around us, every single moment of timing is working out for our good, there is nothing to fear and the sun will rise tomorrow.
I drifted in and out for the rest of what was left of that night. Grateful for my family, grateful for my neighbors and for the life we have built on this little street.