Tired...Oh So Tired...

I really never realized the effect that seeing what I saw could have on me. I feel utterly detached from my everyday routine. I am tired; not tired in the way of sleepiness, tired in the way of complete exhaustion.
I visualize the scene of the house next door engulfed in flames falling to the ground in a storm of fiery boards and debris. I picture the white flash that looked like lightening filling the inside of the home~pushing and forcing its way at the walls until it found its escape right before the fire ensued. I picture the top of the house falling away like the petals of a flower opening up in hopes of receiving a drop of water. I picture the garage doors lying crippled and broken in my front yard and driveway, so far from where they once held out the cold night air. I picture my two little boys standing at my feet screaming to me that we were, "going to burn!", their tiny voices resonating over and over again as they stared at the fire that reached to the heavens. I hear the deafening sound of the two concussions of the explosion that caused the fire ball that emanated, filling the night sky with fear and devastation. I see the face of my husband as it distorted into a look of sheer terror as he bolted outside calling out to the people that luckily were not in the house. I have seen these very sights over and over again in my mind as the long day has progressed and the aftermath has unfolded.
I no longer feel as if my home is the safest place on Earth. I still shake as I re-tell the story to the curious faces that stop to see if I am OK and dare to ask what happened. I can't help but ask what is next and how bad can it get. Sunday, June 26, 2011 is a day that will forever be entrenched into the depths of my memory.
I picked up the Powell Tribune today only to read a misquote stating that I said something that I did not say about these people that have already endured more devastation in their lives than I could even possibly imagine. I went online to read a comment about what I had "said" that brought me to tears, a feat that is pretty easily accomplished these days, but my feelings were hurt none the less. I am disappointed and taken aback. I will be visiting the paper tomorrow to get them to rescind their statement. I only hope that it is enough to appease the appetite of the folks that want to tear me down, that think that I have nothing better to do than gossip about the neighbors.
When does my life get to be normal again? I am not claiming to have the most normal life in the world but for the most part, my life was pretty normal and hum drum before these last three days. I still have a hard time believing that it is Tuesday already. I did not go to work on Monday, as my children and I did not sleep at all Sunday night. Our night was filled with the sound of the radios in the firetrucks; voices echoing~directing and barking out commands. Our night was engorged with the bright lights of the backhoe as it dug to find the gas line that was feeding the brutal monster that claimed the home of the people next door. Our night was permeated with the constant red and blue flashes that lit up our stark white walls in the living room. Our night was filled with pounding hearts and silent tears trickling down our faces. It was filled with the constant tapping of my sons little hand upon my cheek begging me not to go to sleep because he was scared and he didn't want me to fall asleep leaving him to fend off the terrible night all by himself. The terror was real and scary and it invaded my little boys' lives as if it were a living breathing organism that was hell bent on taking over. To be honest, it invaded my life in a way that I will never forget.
I am still overcome by emotion when I find myself sitting still and trying to relax. Yes, I really can't wait until my life feels 'normal' again. Every morning, I have to get up and face the debris strewn lot that once was the foundation of a beautiful two story home. I have to walk outside and get in my car that once was kept in our garage, but can't be now because the explosion pushed the door in and dislodged the lag bolts from where they were once nestled securely. This is my life now, far from 'normal', far from the level of comfort that I have grown so accustomed to. This is my life and it is so, so surreal.