Sam and Ben, who had spent the night at their friends house, were sick. Paul went and got them early Friday morning. They had a stomach bug, but Sam's asthma was flaring up. He could hardly breathe. Those poor boys laid around all day, hardly able to move.
Paul and I met a TV reporter at the house. She wanted to do a story on our house, and why it burned. She interviewed each of us, then walked through the house with us. It was the first time I'd been in the house, other than the night of the fire. I was amazed at the devastation. There was mold growing already because everything was wet. The house smelled badly of smoke, mold and wet insulation. I was able to grab a few things, but not much. It was very evident that we needed breathing masks to go back in.
Anna had come up for the day to help me get our new place into shape. The people who had let us stay in their house are really good friends of ours, and it was very kind of them to immediately open their home. They are planning to rent this house, but were not expecting people so quickly, so their stuff was still in the house, which made moving in a little difficult. Anna cleaned and organized so I wouldn't have to. That was such a blessing.
We were so thankful to have a place to live as long as we needed it. However, this was hard. This house was not our house, and this stuff was not our stuff. We did the best we could at the time, but we were all feeling the stress. The shock and adrenaline rush was quickly wearing off.
Paul and I went and picked up Jack and Emma, and left with more clothes for the kids. People had been blessing us over and over with gift cards, donations of money and stuff for the house. It was also becoming apparent that Jack was having a hard time dealing with the fire and smoke of Wednesday night. He watched the first several minutes of the drama from the driveway, and it affected him. When we got to Paul's mom's house after the fire, he quietly turned to Paul and said, "Daddy, I'm a little scared". Broke my heart to hear that. If anyone mentioned going to the "old" house, he would start crying and screaming that it was too scary. Paul took him to the old house for some reason before we realized he was traumatized, and he screamed and cried and Paul had to leave. All we could do was reassure him that he was not going back to the "old" house.
Friends of ours made dinner for us at the church that night. It was delicious and so kind. While we were eating, a couple of people stopped by with donations of clothes, household items and schoolbooks.
Friday night was the first night we were all in the "new" house. We were short 3 beds, but people had graciously bought or gave us air mattresses, and sheets and pillows, so we were all set. I didn't sleep well at all this night and wondered if this house would ever feel like home.
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