Thanks be to Giving
Hello! I hope you have had a peaceful and restful holiday time. A few sparks in the cosmos kept me from getting to this newsletter sooner, but all is well and I’m grateful for a little downtime to process the last couple of days.
Jason Lamb from News Channel 5 in Nashville checked back in with me and we caught up on what’s been happening lately and it aired on Thanksgiving, just as I was sitting down to a festive dinner we were lucky to be having…
"Finding joy in everyday things was my way of finding that healing moment for each day," Palmer said. "Even if I was feeling less than 100% on a day, it gave me a lot of hope and strength to know there was joy all around me."
Earlier in the day as I came home from Kroger with my sister Betty who was visiting, my entire family was out on the lawn in front of my house, looking distressed. “There’s a fire! Trucks on the way!” As they said this, I heard the many smoke alarms we have singing out in unison, black smoke billowing from the door by the kitchen, the oven the culprit in this spontaneously stressful moment.
Everyone was outside and my husband was frantically hovering outside the kitchen, wondering what to do while we waited. Going to the side of the house, I could see the flames in the broiler and knew there was only a few minutes before things could go from bad to worse. Our house. We cherish this space. We’ve worked hard for it. He said, ‘Is there anything you want to grab?’
I glanced inside once more, and there was a whisper in my ear, or a knowing of some sort, that said, ‘This is going to be ok. Do not go back inside.’
I said to him, ‘We are going to be ok, babe. There’s no reason to go back in. Let’s step back a little more and wait for the fire department to get here.’
He looked like he might cry and I loved him in that moment so much. But just then I heard the familiar sound of sirens, knowing this time they were for us.
7 trucks came with the fireman procedurally preparing for what could be. It reminded me of how healthcare workers respond to a code blue. Quickly and purposefully, yet, maybe everyone could move a little faster? I knew I was on the rapid response territory in my brain, but were they? And yes, they were, and they were doing more in those moments than I could perceive, and I was ever so thankful they were there. I went back over to the side of the house where I could see the kitchen from the driveway.
A very tall and handsome African American fireman emerged from the door, fully covered in his gear, holding a charred Le Creuset pan containing the culprit short ribs that had somehow boiled over, gingerly setting down the pan. I wanted to hug him for his care and kindness, working on a holiday, ensuring my safety. This is going to be ok. We are going to be ok.
Oh and by the way, it was also our 4th Anniversary! Not the type of sparks I was hoping for.
We managed to decompress and have a nice thanksgiving with our friends and visiting family at another location, minus most of the short ribs and dinner rolls.
Integrating the stress of those few minutes has wrecked me a little the last few days. Thinking of how much worse it could have been, and how protected I was in such a vulnerable moment gives me pause. I think of those who have lost so much more than I did, and how devastating that is. I want to order fire extinguishers in bulk for my friends and family, and sincerely honor the fire department workers, who are there 24 hours a day to keep people safe.
It was ironic that I also made the news that day, and thankfully not for the fire.