The Story of Us

Tornado in Goderich: Paying it forward.

2012-03-01T07:51:00.000-05:00

To read how the tornado has affected my family from the beginning, click here.

From the beginning of this blog, youall have sat and listened to me as I poured out my story. Youencouraged and empowered me to keep going every day. You inspired meto keep pushing and you assured me that I wasn’t alone. What youall have done for me in the past 6 months has meant a lot to me, I amgrateful to you, and to so many others, for caring so much, for yourkind words, and for keeping me going.

I am writing this post onbehalf of another family here in town, one that could use someencouragement, empowerment, inspiration and assurance.

In my last blog, I mentioned theBrindley family, without naming them. They are the family with threeyoung children who lived on the street behind me. The family whose story was told later that night on CTV2 by reporter Scott Miller. Thefamily whose insurance company has been giving them the runaroundthroughout the past 6 months. Since that time there has been anoutpouring of support for the Brindleys, as well as widespreadoutrage at the way they have been treated by their insuranceadjuster. The family has received offers of help from lawyers andcontractors, but all of that help still comes at a price. A pricethey at this time cannot afford to pay, because their expenses farexceed their incomes. People wondered why the Goderich DisasterRelief Fund wasn’t helping the family, and the answer iscomplicated. If people affected had full replacement value in theirinsurance policies, they were told there was no sense applying to thefund – that their insurance company would take care of them…thefund was more for people who didn’t have full replacement value, orno insurance coverage at all. While the application process wasstill open, I discussed our situation, as well as our coverage with arelief fund committee member and was told that since I had fullreplacement value on our home as well as contents coverage and lossof use coverage, my situation would be taken care of by my insurancecompany.

The Brindleys have the same insurancecoverage as we did. But with a different company and a differentadjuster.

Like we did, they believed thateverything would be looked after by their insurance company. That’swhere the similarities in our two situations end. We didn’t applyto the fund. The Brindleys did. What has unfolded since then withour insurance companies has been smooth sailing for us, and anightmare for them. The fund cannot address their situation untiltheir insurance claim is settled. Because they have full coverage,they expect to receive it and are not closing their claim until theydo.

The Brindley story is a long,complicated one that cannot be fixed simply. There are a lot offactors at play and there is a lot going on behind the scenes. Ican’t begin to know what it’s like to be dealing with what theyare, but I do identify with Kim Brindley on the most basic levels; asa wife and mother.

Kim is a stay at home mom to 3children, her oldest in Junior Kindergarten. While her husband is atwork she stays at home in a house that isn’t hers, she spending herdays trying to sort out paperwork, make and take phone calls, attendmeetings and run errands in relation to her situation and answereveryone’s questions as accurately as she can, children in tow. She is also making breakfast, lunch and supper, cleaning up spillsand messes, changing diapers, practicing ABCs, playing trucks andpolly pockets, reading bedtime stories and building snowmen. She isnot alone, she has a husband, and just like any other married couple,she and her husband react differently to stress, so she is trying tobalance his needs as well. Like most women, there is no time left atthe end of the day for herself. She is just like any other young momwe know, except she is dealing with one additional giant mess veryfew of us understand.

The bottom line is this: As of June1st the company the Brindleys are insured with will no longer insuretheir home. As you need home insurance to carry a mortgage, at thatpoint the bank will no longer mortgage their home, requiring theBrindleys to pay off the remaining balance on it. They have alreadyspent more than $20 000 over the past 6 months trying to save theirhome and are in no position to pay off their mortgage 3 months fromnow. They believe the only option for them will be to claimbankrupty. After all that occurs, they will still be without ahome. The kicker? In the 6 months since the tornado, theirinsurance company has done nothing to help them, but their monthlypremiums, that they are forced to pay on a house they can’t enterhave risen over 400%! All because of a tornado that lasted 12 secondsand an insurance situation gone horribly wrong.

Did I mention the three children?

Like me, Kim has never been on thereceiving end of “help” before and has a hard time asking for it.

So I am asking on her behalf.

I am asking because so many peoplestepped up and helped my family. I am asking because at the end ofthe day she is a young mom to small children, with a mechanichusband, just like me. I am asking because no matter what, I don’tfeel that this family and these children deserve what they have beenhanded in the last 6 months or what they are facing 3 months fromnow.

I am asking because I want to, in somesmall way, help. Becausee I believe, like Cathy Cove, co editor of "Not like Any other Sunday" wrote this morning, that "we belong to one Goderich, not several."

I don’t know how to fix theirinsurance situation. I don’t know how to get them a new house. Idon’t know how to erase their pain and mental anguish. But I doknow what its like, how impossible it is to balance being a mom and awife with all of this, and how important help is. How important itis to be told, and shown, that you are not alone.

I am one of the lucky ones, thanksentirely to the help of others, and I am asking because I want to payit forward.

What can you do for this family? Canyou provide a gift card to Zehrs? A box of diapers? A gas card? Canyou provide something for Kim, to remind her that she is still aperson, not just a punching bag or a rope to play tug of war with? The Brindleys have been relying on the help of their families for thepast 6 months, is there any way you can give those families even abrief reprieve?

If you can, let me know. You can dropit off with me and I will ensure the Brindley family receives it. Help me pay it forward. And THIS time, I promise you, the peoplethat need your help, will get it.

Thank you.

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Tornado in Goderich: 6 months later.

2012-02-21T07:39:00.001-05:00

To read how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here.

February 21 2012.

Here we are, 6 months later.

The 6 month milestone is a major one. 6 month anniversaries are always acknowleged more than any other month in the first year. Dating for 6months, a baby turning 6 months old. 6months since a death occurred.

Half a year.

Half of a year has passed since the tornado.

Half of a year. 6 months from today will be August 212012. One can only begin to imagine whatthat day will look like and consist of.

For some, this has been a loooooooong 6 months. Lives have changed, families have beenuprooted, displaced and disrupted, and marriages have been tested. It’s hard to comprehend all that has takenplace in this town and in some families within a 6 month period.

For others, it is hard to believe it has already been 6months. Some still have that “stuck inAugust” feeling. Some families have madevery little progress since that day and can't believe half of a year has passed.

6 months later and my friend Kathy and her family from justup the street have movers at their newly finished, rebuilt home today. Their home was demolished the week after Thanksgiving, and they return to Park St the week after Family Day. They lost and rebuilt their house in a 6month period. 4 months really.

Surprisingly, they are not the first family to move home. Matt Hoy has been in his newly built housejust around the corner on Cambria Road, for almosta month. The Hakkers’ families at theend of Park Streethave moved into their 2 Royal Homes. Myneighbours Christa and Rick returned to their home which underwent extensiverepairs, in early February. Anotherfamily I know on the corner of Waterlooand St Patrick Streets returned to their home late January after it underwentextensive repairs. Other families in our neighbourhood including the Doreys and the Bells are close. It won't be too much longer.

But the rest of St Patrick Street remains unchanged. Very little progress has taken place over there, as families continue to battle and play waiting games with theirinsurance companies, or wait for contractors to fit them in.

A family who lives one street behind us on St David Street,has been living a nightmare over the past 6 months. They have gotten nowhere with their insurancecompany and are still without an official decision as to what will happen totheir home, even though it is now so full of mould no one could ever live thereagain. Staying in a house out of town with their 3 young children, they aredrowning in expenses and uncertainties while their insurance adjustor whocontinues to live her normal life in a city 2 hours away, is of no help. Quite the opposite actually. Canyou imagine living in limbo like that, in someone else’s home out of town,while the expenses on your old home that you are no longer in but are stillresponsible for continue to pile up, for6 months with no end in sight? Every part of your life suffers, from yourrelationship with your children, to your marriage, to your mental health.

All along St David Street, and the other side of Park Street,families continue to live in the homes they lived in on August 21 2011. The tornado got them, but not as severely asit got us. As a result, theirhomes stayed standing while mine was ordered to come down. Lucky for them you say? Perhaps not.

Since that day, as they continue to live in their homes,they continue to deal with the fall out. Backyards destroyed. Brokenwindows. Roofs lifted off in spots. Cracked walls. Broken siding. Trees lost, pools lost, basements damaged andfront porches ruined.

While we walked away and started over with house plans,insurance money to replace lost contents and the thrill of watching our newhomes take shape, these families never left their damaged homes. They have to live amongst the damages and therepairs. As time marches on they discover new problems. Cracks in walls that weren't there before. Cracks in foundations. Problems in the basement. Their lives are in a state ofupheaval too, in some ways more than ours. While the work is being done inour home, we are staying somewhere else. While the work is being done to their homes, they are living andbreathing it in, every day. Insurancecompanies and contractors may put them off or delay the deadlines, claiminghomes like mine are more of a priority. Or perhaps they are arguing with their adjusters about what damages they have incurred, whether or not they are a result of the tornado, who should be responsible for repairs, and when those repairs will take place. While I wait, so do they. Becausetheir homes weren’t damaged enough to come down, they have to live with thereality in ways different than we do.

This, I think, is the theme of how I am feeling thismonth.

Last month I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, lamenting about how slow the progress was and lashing out at those who told me “at least they aredoing something” I didn’t want to hear it. I was very focused on my own life, my ownfamily, our own hardships and our own day to day struggles. I was sick of seeing progress at every houseon my street and comparing it with how slowly mine was moving along. I just wanted it to be over, I wanted to behome, and more than anything else, I wanted people to stop asking me when thehouse would be done, why things were moving so slowly and why our builders were never there. When people asked me that over and over again, I wanted to cry…andmany times I did. Again, in the mostinappropriate places. Man, I am bad forthat.

Then, I went away for a week. Packed up my kids and my husband, got on aplane with other members of my family and flew 4 hours to a tropicaldestination to escape my street, my house, the questions and the obsessivethoughts in my head. For a week, mybiggest concerns were sunscreen, pesos and whether or not my kids were eatingenough.

Yes, there was stress. But it was a different kind of stress. The kind you would expect when travelling internationally with two smallchildren.

But I got away from my life for a week, and it turns out Ireally, really needed to.

A week later, I returned to the same life. It was only a week away after all. But while away I kept reminding myself and our children how lucky we were that we couldgo in the first place. That what we weredoing that week was not “the norm” for most families. That we needed to embrace and appreciatewhere we were and what we were doing.

Since our return I am trying to do the same thing; embraceand appreciate where we are and what we are doing.

We were able to walk away from what the tornado did to ourhome and start over. Others weren’t. We are going to receive a brand newhome. Others aren’t. Our dealings with insurance have beencompletely fine. That is not thenorm for people in this town. Just before we left on our tripour insurance adjustor actually, unbeknownst to me, showed up unannounced at our house being rebuilt whileworkers were there, conducted her own self tour and then took it upon herself to callme at home and see how I was feeling about everything. When I told her, she then called our contractor to get answers. That is not the norm.

We are knowledgeable, well connected people in this townthat have gotten answers and results thanks in large part to who and what we know. Others have had a much harder strugglegetting any answers at all.

On August 20 2011 we were a typical young family living frompaycheque to paycheque in our first home that needed an extensive amount ofwork done to it. We puttered away on it over the last6 years, proud the minor upgrades we completed indoors and the transformation we gave to outdoor areas,but we knew we would never have the money to completely renovate the house likewe wanted to.

6 months later, we are building a brand new house and almostall of it is being paid for by someone else. Very few people get a chance like this. The vast majority of people like us work their entire lives living paycheque to paycheque,scraping together money here and there to complete minor renovations or upgrades totheir homes. The vast majority of peoplein this town, affected by the tornado or not, are living in their homes, wanting new kitchens, new bathrooms,new flooring and some nice landscaping, and will never be able to do all they wantto do because financially it simply isn’t possible for them.

What we suffered 6 months ago was substantial. We were traumatized and all of us affectedwere forever changed. People came fromfar and wide, driving down our street shaking their heads in disbelief for us“poor people”. Park Street was filled with despair, tears and fear of the future. By Fall, those peopledriving by could see signs of hope. Hihoes, pick up trucks and hardhats descended on Park Street, the sound of hammers and machinery filling the air as on lot after lot, contractors worked together to begin the processof bringing us home. Passersby commented on who had been hired for each home and watched as each day the landscape of Park Street changed. Now, as Spring inchescloser, our street is filled with promise. Houses are up, people are moving home, and soon the grass, flowers and trees will be replanted.All of that has taken place in just 6 months.

I know we are the lucky ones. I know we got to walk away and startover. And because I know that, and Isuspect the others do too, we are quieter now. At first, people felt sorry for us. Pitied us. Didn’t know how wewould get through it. We felt sorry forourselves and we ourselves didn’t know how we would get through it. We had to be vocal and fight for what we felt we deserved. We spoke to the media because we wanted others to know how hard it was, how life changing it was, how unfair it was. To say that yes, we are hurting, yes this does suck, and please, don't forget about our town. We need help. Now, people look at our street and our housesbeing built and whisper about how "big" they are. How the majority of us opted for “in floor heating”. How we are making changes and upgrades towhat we used to have. Wondering just what kind of insurance coverage we had to be able to build houses like that. Saying that it must be nice to be us. Brand new homes with all these upgrades while others across town, or across the street, live in the same homes and have the same issues with their kitchens, bathrooms, flooring and backyards that they did before the tornado. What do we have to complain about anymore?

While we lamentover flooring and paint choices, others just want the answers we were luckyenough to receive months ago. Othersjust want to be treated fairly. Othersjust want to feel like they have been paying their insurance premiums all thistime for a reason.

I can’t speak for the others on my street, but I can saythat I myself have been humbled. Afterall is said and done, I am one of the lucky ones.

Now, it hasn’t and doesn’t come without a cost. One that is impossible to understand if youhaven’t lived it, but others are paying a hefty price in their own situationstoo. Family relationships have suffered,marriages have suffered, people’s mental health statuses have suffered. And not just within the families whose houses have or will come down. Many, many people in this town have been prescribed antianxiety and anti depression medications and are seeking counseling, not justthose who lost their homes. People allover Ontariofelt sorry for us, the ones who lost their homes and were paraded all over thenews. I am now able to say that youshouldn’t feel sorry for us. Anymore. We will beokay. Now. Who you should be thinking about,and wanting to help are those who are still waiting for answers. Those in surrounding neighbourhoods who alsohad damage and have had to live amongst the repairs, renovations andnegotiations. Those who have had to waittheir turns. And those whose lives arestill on hold and have been for 6 months now, still fighting, still waiting foranswers, still wondering how they are going to get through this. Those whowon’t complain and won’t speak up abouttheir own situations because they feel guilty, thinking that they have no rightto complain when there are others in town who lost everything and are livingelsewhere while their new homes are being built.

I understand. And Ithink of them. This is why I am quieterabout my own situation now. Because Iknow that eventually, it is all going to work out and that we will be betteroff. I do not want to flaunt that. I feel guilty about parading pictures of my new house on facebook...like its a slap in the face to those still waiting. I do not want to rub it in the faces ofothers who are struggling. I am gratefulfor what I have and will have.

You know, as I look back at all the blog posts I have written about this, I am so very glad I have blogged our journey from thebeginning. What I have written and the feelings I have worked through infront of all of you in thelast 6 months, are special for me to read back on. To see the changes in our situation and inmyself as they have evolved. It may sound crazy that I feel good about working through this in such a public way, but I do. I am proudof this blog and so glad I have captured all the emotions I have experiencedfrom one extreme to the other over the last 6 months. This will be a treasure to me in the years to come, and I hope to my children too. I know it has helped different people to understand, has validated the feelings others in similar situations had, and it has provided my extended family with an understanding of what I was feeling but couldn't put into words. I don't believe anything negative has come from this blog. I have gained and re established friendships and had conversations with people I never would have otherwise. I think it has created a community of understanding, respect and encouragement among its readers and facebook page and of that, I am proud.

*************************

We have been told we should be in by the end of March. I am cautiously optimistic, but tell people we will wait and see. As of today the wiring, plumbing and hvac hasbeen completed and the process of insulating the house has begun. The kitchen is being ordered next week and Ihave chosen paint colours and flooring for the upstairs and main floors. Ourshed has been framed in and roofed and our garage doors are in. The next steps are to finish insulating andbegin hanging drywall.

I dream about tornadoes from time to time, and when drivingthrough areas that were heavily affected that day such as my neighbourhood, orcoming into town on Victoria Street from Saltford, or reaching the areabeginning at the corner of Huron Rd and Picton Streets, I get flashbacks. Sometimes, for reasons I can't explain, I still get choked up. When I pull up to a red light at the KFCcorner of the 5 points, I remember the day the female OPP officer demanded tosee my ID before allowing me to turn left towards Park Street. I can still see where the firetrucks were parked andwhere the trees had fallen. When I drive by Patti's house I remember walking through it that night in the dark and walking around the corner with her towards my street. When I come to the corner of Cambria Rd and Park Street I remember how that intersection was completely impassible and full of fallen trees and wires. When I plan out new rooms in my new house, my initial thoughts always go to the old rooms in the old house and I have to remind myself that's not what they will look like anymore. And yes, if Iconcentrate, I can still hear the sirens.

I think Jack will be okay. He still talks about it, but not as much, and he still has questionsabout storms but doesn’t seem as fearful. I do think that Makenna has changed since August, but I don’t know for sure ifit’s a result of the tornado, or the age she is at, or the year she is havingat school, or a combination of many factors. I believe both of them will bescared of wind and storms for years, and I worry about how they will react tothe thunderstorms that are sure to roll in this summer. I have heard from numerous people that the Farmer's Almanac is predicting more instances of severe weather around the Great Lakes, including tornadoes, but I can't yet allow myself to think about it.

As for me?

Rest assured, this blogseries is not over yet. As I read back on this I realize maybe it sounds like an ending, but it isn't. At the 6 monthmark, I know I am a different person. Isuffered a serious trauma and was shaken to my core. I look back at how I handled and reacted tothings and see how messed up I was. What happened has changed me and for...I would say...5.5 months, I was struggling to keep my head above water. It's been hard. Very very hard.

But today, I am very calm as I write this, and I do think I'll be okay in the long run, but that's largely because my situation will be okay. I cannot imagine functioning well if I was still in limbo, still not knowing what was happening to my house 6 months after the fact. And knowing that there was still so much to go through once decisions were finally made. My heart truly aches for the people who still have so far to go...who still have so much to sort out and deal with before they can say their lives have returned to "normal". They are the true victims in this situation, not me.

1 month from now, on March 21, 7 months after the tornado...hopefully it will be very close to our turn to go home...

stay tuned....

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Happy Birthday Jack!

2012-02-10T17:14:00.001-05:00

Every year, Jeff and I each write separate letters to our children on their birthdays. To learn more about this, click here.

Dear Jack,

Snow is quietly falling outside the window as I write this, your fourth birthday letter. The weather is very different today than it was 4 years ago. In fact, the weather has been a major factor in the second half of your third year.
The biggest story of this past year was, of course, the F3 tornado that came through Goderich on August 21. The one that, at just 3.5 years old, destroyed your home and life as you knew it.

Yes, what a year you have had. You were finally old enough for swimming lessons this past fall and although you initially resisted them...strongly resisted them...you love them now. Just like you initially resisted being enrolled in Goderich 's Municipal Daycare this fall...strongly resisted it....eventually you came around and worked your infectious personality, charming most, if not all of the staff members. It was hard for you, not being able to go to Jodi's as you always had. The 5 month break from there while she was off with Baby Liam was the first time in 6 years I had to find alternative daycare...it was hard for me too. Turns out you truly got the best of both worlds with Mrs Brenda and Jodi; this week you returned to Jodi's Home Daycare but remain in Brenda's class at the town Daycare on Mondays. You have made some good little friends at daycare, especially with Hunter, Carman and Dylan, and are so excited for your first playdate without mommy this weekend.

Your third year was a difficult one as the outside world threw us some major curveballs at the same time you were exercising your independence, determination and, shall we say..."stubborn" traits. You and your dad clashed many times and I was given a good glimpse into what your daddy must have been like as a boy, and also into what I have to look forward to as you get older.

But there were so many fun, wonderful, positive things about this year too. Potty training is well behind us now, (other than overnights) and you have had your first round of visits to the dentist. You write your name, know your letters, colours, numbers, shapes and so much more, inside out. You had your first exeperiences with both water slides and toboggans this year, and can't wait to learn how to ride your new bike. You like dressing up and playing as firefighters and police officers just as much as you like playing barbies and littlest pet shops with your sister who is, by far, your very best friend. This year we saw you go through phases of Blue's Clues, Backyardigans, Super Mario Brothers, and most recently Toy Story and Dinosaurs. You continue to be a terrible eater at home but a fine eater everywhere else. Some of your favourite foods are pancakes, sausage, egg salad and kraft dinner.

It was very exciting to watch you take your first major trip, first airplane ride, just a couple weeks ago when our family travelled to Mexico with Gran and Grandma Tam. We also spent time with Uncle Wayne, Aunt Connie and my cousins Travis and Kirby while there. One of my favourite moments was seeing the empathy you showed towards Makenna when she was panicking about the flight. You calmly reassured her there was nothing to worry about and that everything would be fine and my heart swelled at your capacity to show empathy at such a young age. You had such a fun time on that trip and keep asking when we are going back.

Now that Makenna is involved in various extra curricular activities, you really enjoy your one on one time with Mom and especially Dad. This summer you will be old enough for soccer and baseball and I am anxious to see which one you prefer.

Deep down you are still very much a Mama's boy and my favourite time of the day is when you crawl into my bed to snuggle with me before I get up each morning. Even though you want to do everything at your own pace and on your own schedule, you still ask to be carried, snuggled and babied from time to time. Your determination and strong personality can drive me absolutely crazy most days, but I keep telling myself that all of these qualities will serve you very well when you get older.
I think my most favourite thing about you is that infectious, full belly, make everybody smiles, laugh of yours. It gets me every time. You really are the sweetest boy. I love the age you are right now and wish I could freeze time and keep you this size forever.
As I look ahead, I see another year full of change for you. By this time next year we will be in our new house back in our old neighbourhood and you will be halfway through your first year of school. My only hope is that those changes bring better reactions then the ones from this past year.

The weather has been such a major factor in the lives of our family this past year. Thank you for always bringing me sunshine when I needed it. I can always count on you to make me happy when my skies are grey.

Love you buddy. Happy Birthday!

Love Mommy
xoxo.

Tornado in Goderich: 5 months later...Mommy, is there such thing as snow tornadoes?

2012-01-21T08:43:00.003-05:00

To read about how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here.

Another thirty days have went by sincethe F3 tornado on August 21 2011; it’s now been 5 months.

Sigh.

I’m tired.

Winter has finally decided to arrive,albeit a few months late. Our family celebrated a great Christmaswith our children and extended families. We were very touched by thegift from my brother and his wife. On Christmas Day we learned thatback in November, on the day of our house demolition, Mike arrived inGoderich very early, before we were even out of bed, broke into ourhouse on Park Street and set to work dismantling our staircase. Theone Jeff’s dad had built for us when we moved in. Mike laterpresented the step risers and spindles to my uncle Jim, who made asign for our new home.

It means a lot to me that my littlebrother had the foresight to do something like that for us, and Ilook forward to finding the perfect place for it in our new house.

It has been 30 days since my lastmonthly update, and in those 30 days, 3 of them saw work done to ourhouse.

I know it’s a process. I know we arefurther ahead than others in town. I know it will all come together. I know.

But 3 days out of 30? Come On. If youwere me, you’d be discouraged too.

So, our house is all framed in, haswindows and a roof. The electrical panel is in the basement, hydroand gas services have both been reconnected, and the interior wallsof the basement are studded and vapour barriered. The front porchhas been started, which improves the appearance of the front of thehouse. Before it looked so tall!

The next step inside the house, Ithink, is running the wiring. We met with the electrician last weekand marked throughout the house where to place each light switch andoutlet, and came home from that meeting feeling energized andexcited.

But no electrical work has yet to havetaken place. Maybe next week.

I expected us to be farther along thanwe are. I expected them to work on it more than they have been. It’s been difficult for me to adjust to the reality of building ahouse. To accept that my house isn’t the only one on the “todo” list. I’ve always been terrible at waiting. Patience hasnever been a virtue of mine. I see work being done every day toother houses in my neighbourhood, including ones that were startedafter mine and are now way ahead of mine and to be honest, as I writethis today, I am feeling pretty down and discouraged about the wholething. The good news is that when work is being done, we arethrilled with the progress.

Looking at the bigger picture, ourstreet continues to be a hub of activity. It was recently featuredin a Youtube video for Goderich’s bid to become Kraft Hockeyville. Our house is one of 9 or 10 being built in our neighbourhood rightnow, with still more waiting to come down and start their processes. It is quite possible that at least one, maybe more families will beback in their homes for the 6 month anniversary one month from now.

With winter comes more wind. With thefirst snowfall came questions from both kids about the possibility of“snow tornadoes”.

“Is there such thing as snowtornadoes?” “Snowstorms come in off the lake, just like thetornado did”. “What about the wind from a snow storm? What doesit do to houses?” They are constantly worried and fearful ofthe wind.

“No, there is no such thing as asnow tornado.”

“Yes, snow storms come in off thelake, but they don’t hurt your house. They can make it hard to seewhen you’re driving, but they don’t hurt houses”.

Both kids had another appointment witha children’s therapist this month. During his appointment, Jacknever stopped talking, laughing, charming and joking around. He drewpictures of his old house, his new house and what he wants hisbedroom to look like. We discussed his need to frequently talk aboutwhat happened, why it happened, what may happen, etc. Hepersistently asks why this happened, and when we will back in ourhouse… two questions that, much to his frustration, I cannot answerfor him. I’m advised to keep re framing the discussion to focus onthe positive.

Yes, this happened. Yes it was scary. But remember how the basement kept us safe? Remember how Jim andJoyce kept you safe? Remember how all your toys and clothes wereokay? Remember when you went to Grandma Tam’s and were safe? Remember that we are in another house now, while we wait and you haveyour own room and all of your toys? Wow, you have a lot of questions about that. How come? What are you thinking about? Is there something worrying you?

Focus on the positive.

Good advice, not just for the child.

Makenna’s appointment a few hourslater, was much quieter. It was like pulling teeth getting her totalk. She was old enough to know the reason why she was there andwasn’t really interested in discussing it. What she did offer, wasthat she is scared of the wind. If she is outside and it’s windy,she needs to come in. If she hears the wind while laying in bed, shecan’t sleep and needs to be comforted by us. In her mind, wind isa threat.

We discussed the many positive thingsthat wind can accomplish. Cooling you off on a hot day. Pollination. Bringing leaves to the ground to jump in. We discussedthe difference between regular every day wind, and tornadoes. Wediscussed the meanings of the words “common” and “rare”. Wealso discussed all of the happy, great things that have happenedsince the tornado. Her birthday. Thanksgiving. Cheerleading. School. Christmas. The list went on and the point was to drawattention to the fact that the tornado was just one thing in herlife….there have been so many great things happen since that day.

Again, all good advice. And not justfor the child.

At the conclusion of both sessions, thetherapist assured me both kids were doing fine, having normalreactions, and that I was doing everything right as I try to guidethem through this. She thought both kids act older than they are andare extremely perceptive to what’s going on around them, and what’sgoing on with the grown ups in their lives. Logically, if these wereanyone else’s children, I would say the same thing. That they aredoing really well considering all that has happened in their lives. That their parents are taking all the right steps and saying all theright things to help them through it.

But they aren’t anyone else’s kids,they are my kids…and most of the time I have no idea how to handleall of this myself, much less how to reassure them. I don’t knowwhy it happened. I don’t know when we will be back in our house. I don’t know when it will be “all better”. I don’t know ifanother tornado will come to Goderich…and honestly, there are timesthe wind scares the hell out of me too.

Jack's last regular day at daycare is this coming Wednesday. Despite his rough start, he has really blossomed there. I have much respect and gratitude for the staff in his classroom, the director, and the staff as a whole for working so hard to ease his transition, be there for my family and work to help us through this. Their dedication, compassion and care for us and our situation truly showed in the way they interacted with Jack, and with me. I owe a lot to them for what they have done and provided for us over the past 5 months. Jack has made many great friends that will be with him in Kindergarten next year and really enjoys his time at daycare now. As a result I have decided to keep him there on Mondays, and then he will spend Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays back at Jodi's home daycare, where he is very excited to teach baby Liam everything he knows.

Back in November, an opportunity presented itself and we decided to grab it. We took advantage of a one day sale and booked a trip for the 4 of us down south. To the same resort my mom, grandma, aunt, uncle and two cousins had already booked at. We have been keeping it a secret from our children and my grandma (so don't tell her!) as we want to surprise them the day of...which is this coming Thursday.
At first I didn't think it would be proper, or a good idea to do something like this at a time like this when we are building a house. Jeff and I have never been on an all inclusive trip together before, our kids have never flown, and there is so much going on here that it didn't make much sense to pick this time in our lives to go on a vacation such as this.

But you know what?

Sometimes you can spend your whole life doing what makes sense and what's proper. Sometimes you can spend your whole life being responsible and doing what "you're supposed to do". Sometimes you can do all that, and a tornado will come along and take away everything you have worked so hard for anyway.
So sometimes, its okay to do something because you want to. Because you feel like it. So that's what we're doing. In hopes of creating some happy memories, of enjoying a distraction from our reality, of spending some special time with family.
Of course now, the weather forecast is calling for rain and thunderstorms every single day that we are there, which will undoubtedly just create more stress.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

Not a lot has changed for us in thelast month.

In a word, I would describe myself asfeeling…weary.

There is still so much to do, still sofar to go, and it’s old news now. People don’t want to hearabout it anymore. They ask how the house is coming, and more oftenthan not, are surprised that we aren’t home yet. This, I findridiculous, as no one is home yet. Those who aren’t affected,really have no idea.

I know it could be worse. I know thereare families, businesses and individuals in worse situations than us. I am reminded of that everyday.

But that doesn’t mean I’m notallowed to be frustrated. To be sad. To be angry and annoyed. Iknow there are people worse off, but I’m still allowed to feel whatI feel. And somedays, I need to be allowed to feel sorry for myself.

We all do.

Yeah…this month’s update has apretty negative tone. I think because there isn’t much new toreport since last month. And in a process like this, a month is sucha long time. So much can be accomplished in a month.

Or not.

It’s a process. The journeycontinues.

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Tornado in Goderich: Beautiful?

2011-12-22T16:02:00.002-05:00

To read about how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here.

Think of the woman you know who is battling cancer. Who has lost all of her hair, whose cheeks are a bit sunken, her skin paler, her body lighter.

She's a fighter. She gets out of bed every morning, carries on with her day and faces demons many of us know nothing about. Cancer is trying to break her spirit but she won't allow that. She tries her best to keep a positive outlook, to overcome everything that has been thrown at her.

Is she beautiful?

Think of the woman you know who has battled back from domestic violence. Whose eyes have been blackened, whose bones have been broken, whose teeth have come loose.

She's a fighter too. She gets out of bed each morning. She carries on with her day and faces demons many of us know nothing about. He tried to break her spirit but her spirit fought back. She got the help she needed to leave and safely start a new life for herself. She came back from everything life threw at her and is still here.

Is she beautiful?

Think of the woman you know raising all those children on her own. The one who hasn't fit into her pre pregnancy jeans since she had her first baby. Who rarely has time to put make up on, buys her clothes at second hand stores, and counts coupons in the grocery line to ensure she has enough money to feed her family. She's never owned a pair of stillettos in her life and her work out routine doesn't take place at the gym - it consists of running after all those kids.

She's a fighter too. Having not slept through the night in years, she still gets out of bed first every morning. She carries on with her day and as a single parent, faces demons many of us know nothing about. People judge her, look down on her and her children, and whisper behind her back. There is never enough money to pay the bills and her vehicle is falling apart. Society works to break her spirit, but she won't allow that. Her children are loved, fed and well mannered. They make good grades at school and say their prayers before bed each night. She sacrifices things for herself, in order to provide for her children.

Is she beautiful?

Think of that town you know. The one that was hit by an F3 tornado. The one whose major employer and downtown core were hit so hard. Whose trees were uprooted like twigs. Whose residences were demolished, and whose people were left without homes, vehicles or jobs. Whose people were left traumatized, wounded, devastated.

That town is fighting too.

Its community has banded together to support eachother. Its businesses are working to reopen. Some residences are being rebuilt, roof truss after roof truss pointing toward the sky. Its social service agencies are working to try to help those that ask for it, and to find those that aren't asking. People from far and wide have made donations to help, because they care. New trees are being replanted, people are sharing their pain, their fears, their stories. A tornado tried to break its spirit. Insurance companies try to break its spirit. Judgemental outsiders try to break its spirit. The day to day battles work to break its spirit.

But the people of the town won't allow that.

The people here know that beauty is more than skin deep. That beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That every house being rebuilt is a beautiful thing. That every store that reopens is a beautiful thing. That every cheque that comes in is a beautiful thing. Every tree that grows, every flower that will come back next Spring, every sunset over the lake, are all beautiful things.

That strength is beautiful.

The woman who has lost her hair to cancer, whose cheeks are sunken, skin paler and body is lighter...she is beautiful.

The woman who has battled back from domestic violence and can hold her head high and sleep at night, is beautiful.

The single mom who wears a size 16 and doesn't even own lipstick...is beautiful.

Scars aren't ugly. They tell your story. Give you character. Help you to remember where you come from, where you are going, and the road that is taking you there.

A seven year old little girl recently heard her town referred to as "an ugly mess". "Ugly?!" she cried indignantly. "This town is not ugly".

She's right.

Across town, a seven year old little boy heard that this town is not considered to be "The prettiest town in Canada" anymore. He looked at his mom, confused, and said "Yes we are!"

He's right.

Do you know who gave Goderich the title "Prettiest town in Canada"?
Queen Victoria. She said that, when she was shown a picture of the Port of Goderich. A loooooooooooong time ago.

She said that, having never been here, never meeting its people, never shopping at the stores, seeing inside the schools, the theatres, the churches. She never attended any of its festivals or actually stepped foot on its beaches.
She said that, knowing nothing about the spirit within its residents.

This town has scars. They are out there, for all to see. Just like the scars of the Cancer Survivor, the Domestic Violence Survivor, the Single Mother. Those scars aren't ugly. They tell our story. They help us remember where we have come from, where we are going, and the road we are on to get there.

Beauty isn't about appearance. It isn't what's on the surface that counts. Beauty comes from within. It's in your spirit. The way you live your life, deal with the hand you've been dealt, and overcome what's been thrown at you.

Two Seven year olds from opposite ends of town get it.

Is this town beautiful? Pretty?

Yes.
Yes we are.

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Tornado in Goderich: 4 months later.

2011-12-19T13:43:00.001-05:00

To read how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here

I wonder if the 21st of every month will hold special meaning to me now for awhile? It will always mark another month since the tornado hit.

Today marks 4 months since the tornado.
4 months.

Sigh.

I remember when I attended the debriefing where we were told that families affected would still be dealing with fallout 3 months later and what a hard time I had accepting that.

Here we are 4 months later, and...yeah...they were right.

Not that it's all necessarily bad - it isn't...it's just always...there. It's a part of everything we do, everywhere we go, every thought we have. The tornado on August 21 2011 is a part of us.

We're not as "into" Christmas this year. We have tried to make it fun, with our new "Elf on the Shelf" tradition, the usual Christmas baking and craft days, watching Christmas movies and listening to Christmas CDs...but that's all mostly for Makenna and Jack. I myself am just not as into it this year. Most of my Christmas decorations are still packed away in boxes (except the tree, of course), and we didn't bother with any outdoor decorations or lights this year. Maybe it's because there isn't much snow on the ground, but I think it's mostly because we just have too much other stuff on our minds. It's hard to get swept away by Christmas and all that comes with it, when building a house is our priority. Choosing doors, lighting, shingles, siding colours, bathroom vanities, kitchen cabinets...this is going to be our home...I want to do it right. But when you try to do that, coupled with all that's involved with Christmas time - shopping, parties, wrapping, baking, visiting, kids' concerts, planning when to see everyone (which is a blog post in itself)...it's overwhelming trying to get it all done in time.

Since August I have had 2 dreams about tornadoes. Not nightmares, just dreams. and not of the tornado that hit Goderich, just of tornadoes in general. I only know of Jack having one. He has settled into daycare nicely, just in time for me to pull him out for 2 weeks over the holidays, and come January he only goes for 2.5 weeks before he returns to Jodi's, our home daycare provider who will have completed her maternity leave. Makenna's school work seems to have gotten back on track, thank goodness. She has been doing extremely well in Math lately, surprising both Jeff and I. She also seems to have an affinity for Science...so far anyway.

We have good days, full of hope, excitement and optimism...and we have "not so good" days, where we seem only able to see the negatives...or are just tired of this whole situation...or just want to be back on our old street, in our old neighbourhood, in our own home. We have days when we are happy to be patient, and days when...we aren't.

The book our family contributed to, "Not like any other Sunday" was released a couple weeks ago, and has been a resounding success. Sold out in a matter of hours in both its first and second printings, there is a waiting list for the third printing, expected in January. The media have taken an interest in this book, and in our family's story as well. We do not shy away from speaking to the media because I feel people need to understand the reality of the situation. That it still isn't over. That t's not just the buildings and the business fronts. Its not just the physical, that you can see with a camera. It's that people's lives have changed. Children's lives have changed. And also, that we are still here, still working, still fighting, still living our day to day lives. Maybe it will make you thankful for what you have. Maybe it will put things into perspective for you. Maybe it will help you be less quick to judge us, our town, and the decisions being made, if you see that real people are affected. We don't want your pity...we never have. That's not why we speak to the media. We want you to understand. To respect our town. To put yourselves in our shoes and question how you would handle it. Of course, when the media does come, does talk to us, and then gets it all wrong, like in this story, (6:46) that's frustrating too. Our names are spelled wrong. Cathy Cove's husband did not die. Makenna is not having nightmares. We are not spending Christmas at a friend's house this year, and the money used to build the homes right now, MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT come from the cheques lining the halls at Town Hall. If you are going to come and tell our story, which we want to tell, please,get it right.

As for our house - everyone wants to know the same 3 things - Who is building it, how's it coming along, and when we expect to be in.

Our contractor is from Brussels, about 40 mins away. Our house structure is up, framed in and wrapped. The shingles are on the roof, the electrical panel and stairwells are in and the windows are expected on Thursday. We may get "hydro" as a Christmas present on Friday. The goal was to have it closed in by Christmas and it looks like they are on track. Then they can work inside for the rest of the winter. We hope to be in, sometime this Spring. We are glad the building process is underway, as many others have to wait until Spring to even begin. My heart truly aches for them, as I could not imagine what it would do to me to drive my my old falling down house every day all winter long, knowing there was nothing to do but wait. We are waiting too, but are encouraged when we see progress on our property from week to week. Park Street is a hub of activity right now; many days its almost impossible to drive down it, the road is lined both sides with all of the workers' vehicles. Every single house on Park Street is either being repaired or rebuilt - every single one. While the same will be aid for St Patrick Street, the majority of them still sit as they have since August 21...tied up in, I assume, insurance and heritage headaches.

Above all else, we just want to go home. I miss my backyard and all of its flowers. I really do. I know they would all be gone by this time of year anyway, but we put every single plant on that property there over the past few years, and I miss them.I miss our composters. I know that's ridiculous, but I take pleasure in contributing to them all winter and seeing what we have produced in the Spring. Now we are just throwing it all out and it pains me to do so. I miss our front porch. We are getting a new one, and I know I wouldn't be on it much this time of year anyway, but I still miss it.
We haven't hung any photos or prints up on the walls where we are right now, because we didn't want to put a bunch of holes in the walls when we knew we we would just have to take all the pictures down again. They are all packed in boxes in our storage room, along with so many other boxes. The other day I needed my glue gun, and what should have been a simple 5 second task, going to get it, was a 30 minute expedition, hunting through boxes trying to find it.

As you can maybe tell, I am tired. That's kind of the main feeling/emotion right now. It's been 4 months, it's Christmas time, we are building a house under circumstances beyond our control, we need to replace various items and dig through boxes for others, we know that eventually we have to pack everything up AGAIN and move AGAIN....I'm just tired. It's getting old.

I will be in restaurants, or grocery stores, or line ups and overhear people talking about the rebuilding, the relief fund, the weather, or where they were that day,and their various opinions on all of the above. I stand there, forced to hear what they are saying, they having no idea I am one of "those poor people". People still ask if we were home at the time, how we are coping, what it was like. It is such old news to me now, I have a hard time believing those not affected are still so interested.

We feel like we need a break from our lives.
And we are taking one. Because sometimes, you can live your whole life being responsible, practical and doing what's "right", and a tornado still takes your house away anyway. Sometimes, you just have to do something because you want to. Because life is too short.

More on that next month.

So, 4 months later, we are carrying on with our "new normal". We are better off than a lot of others we know, and are grateful or that. The support of our friends, family and community continues to encourage and sustain us, and we continue to be humbled by the kindness of strangers.

We continue to believe that the spirit of our community is brighter, stronger, and more close knit than it ever was before. The people here are bonded together by something very few communities are. Despite everything that divides us, there are a few things that unite us. You have to live here, day in and day out, to truly understand what I mean. There really is no other place we want to live, than here in Goderich.

We are also grateful for the weather. Ironic that it was extreme weather that caused all of this, and now the lack of extreme weather, which we all expect at this time of year, is allowing us to rebuild at a pace we normally wouldn't be able to in December.

I wish all of you the very best of the holiday season. I know many of my readers are also struggling to get into the Christmas Spirit this year, and I completely understand and respect that. I wish you all, from the bottom of my heart, a happy, healthy and better, new year.

xo.

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Tornado in Goderich: "Not Like Any Other Sunday".

2011-12-11T19:52:00.001-05:00

To read the story of how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here.

I can't remember when it was...it was the first couple weeks after the tornado and I was sitting in the Doaks' living room reading our local paper, the Goderich Signal Star. Coverage of the tornado and its after-effects dominated the headlines and photos, and Cathy Cove's column caught my eye. She was calling for submissions. Wanting to talk to those affected and profile their stories in the paper on an ongoing basis. I had just started blogging our story and the response was snowballing with each day. Cathy and I connected and once she read my blog she was eager to learn more.

A few weeks later she told me she had connected with Elizabeth Bundy-Cooper in Stratford, who is originally from Goderich. They were thinking of compiling a book of stories from various people affected and wanted to include my story, as well as Jeff's. By now I was deep into the blog, and if you were to print off all I had written at that point, you would have a thick stack of papers. That was too much for this book, I needed to condense it, she said.
We emailed back and forth for quite awhile and sat down around my kitchen table trying figure out how best to do that, while still feeling as though I had included all I wanted to say. I am a detail person. I like to include as many details as possible, in hopes that the reader will really "get it". I felt like every single word I had written in this blog about the tornado was equally important and had no idea how to condense it all into just a few pages. I stepped back from it for about a week, mulling it over...what was the overall message I wanted to convey? I knew this book would be read by many...what, about our story, did I want them to walk away with? I really wanted them to "get it", just as I wanted all of my blog readers to "get it". My submission had to be in by mid September, when so much of our story was still unknown, still being written every day. I was on a leave of absence from work, trying to sift through the shock, anxiety and so many unknowns that now made up my life. I was grieving the loss of my home, the one that was still standing, battered and broken, a harsh reminder every single day of all that had taken place. I went back and read one of the blog entries I had written last year about the "houses that built me". As I read what I had innocently written at that time about my house on Park Street, my eyes spilled over, and over, and over again. But at the same time, I could feel what I wanted to write for this book, what I wanted to convey to all the readers, forming in my mind.

Once I had a plan, it came together quite easily actually. A blend of what I had written already, closing with a look toward the future. I knew I was the "mother with young children left to figure it out on her own" in this book, and so I focused on that - a mother's view.

Jeff knew what he wanted to say and wrote it out by hand, passing the looseleaf papers to me as he filled them front and back, and I transferred them to type. I still have those papers full of "chicken scratch" and always will.

I was then asked if Makenna happened to have drawn any pictures having to do with all that had happened. She and Jack both had, so I submitted them, as well as various handmade cards she had received from her young friends as well.

The goal was to have the book, titled "Not Like Any Other Sunday," released in time for Christmas. All proceeds would go towards Victim Services of Huron County. Fitting, I thought, considering the crucial role Victim Services had played in this disaster, a role I had started out trying to provide and ended up being on the receiving end of, and also because its Executive Director's personal and professional lives collided when the biggest situation she had ever faced professionally, also demolished her own home.

This past Friday, the book was officially launched at the Goderich Public Library. I had a list a mile long of books I was supposed to buy for people. And I wasn't the only one. Makenna, Jack and I arrived to the library and met with editors Cathy and Elizabeth and many of the other contributors to the book. Jeff joined us when he was done work and we visited and reconnected with neighbours, signed people's books and retold our stories. Makenna was thrilled to "sign autographs" and was presented with a sketchbook, markers and pencil crayons from Cathy and Elizabeth as thanks for her contributions. Jack took full advantage of the refreshment area.

During the formal speech portion of the launch, our family of four stood, surrounded by other families, business owners, politicians and friends as we listened to our local MP, the Executive Director of Victim Services and various town councillors speak to the importance of this book. The editors even took the time, in front of all of the important people in the room, to centre out Makenna, have her stand an introduce her to the room. She beamed while the entire room erupted in applause.

Within hours, all 500 copies that had been printed were spoken for, and another order of 500 were on their way.

Over the weekend I sat and read through this book. The collection of stories in this book is priceless. Truly. This book costs $20, but is worth so so so much more. To me, anyway. I bought one for Makenna, and one for Jack, and they went right into their Hope Chests.

I read through the stories Jeff and I wrote with little emotion as I knew them so well by now I could almost recite them word for word. Some of the other stories I had heard about already, many I had not. Of all of them, 3 in particular brought tears to my eyes...the story of Shelley Dorey, Executive Director of Victim Services, the story of Carolyn Corfield and her family from Dorchester who were passing through Goderich and in their van on the square when the tornado hit, miraculously escaping with their lives, and the story of Colleen Maguire, whose eloquent writing caught in my throat, burned my eyes and spoke to my heart.

I learned that others saw that "wall of white" that I saw outside of our basement window. That others felt the pressure in their ears. That other emergency personelle have struggled, even though this is what they are trained to do, and that many, many others had much closer brushes with death than we did.

And these are only the stories that are in the book. There are still many more untold.
The longer submissions in this book all have a message of hope, which is exactly what I wanted to convey myself.

I am honoured to be a part of Victim Services, and hope that one day soon I will be strong enough to respond to calls again. Usually, you are not even aware that Victim Services exists until you have, unfortunately, been on the receiving end of their services. They accompany police officers to the door to notify family members about the death of a loved one. To the scene of a car accident. To calls of Domestic Assault. Sexual Assault. To house fires. To family and personal crises. When the police officers move on to do their job, their investigation, Victim Services stays to support you. To stay with you through the shock. To help make the phone calls. To help with alternative living arrangements. To mobilize resources you need, whether it be food for tomorrow, or long term counselling. To connect you with help to prepare for court proceedings. To help you construct a safety plan. To provide you with support when your world has just been turned upside down and inside out. To organize a taxi, a bus ticket, a train ticket, a drive to a safe place. Whether its a death in the middle of the night, an accident, a fire, or an F3 tornado, Victim Services is there. This service is invaluable to each and every county it serves. Every $20 book sold is another $20 put towards helping the residents of our county when disaster, whatever form it takes, hits their world, no matter how large or small the scale.

Tales of the disaster on August 21 have been compiled into a neatly bound book. Many of the contributors live and work along side of us, we see them on the streets, at the YMCA, at the grocery store. This book tells so many tragic stories and gives you intimate glimpses into personal lives. This is a special, special book. It also leaves you with a sense of hope, and of pride.

If you live in Goderich, you should own this book.
If you have been touched by all that has happened here since August 21, you should read this book.
If you want to do something to help, you should buy this book.

It is being sold at Fincher's and Something Irresistible, both on the Square in Goderich, and at Carlow Mercantile. You can also email goderichstories@gmail.com to order your copy.

Elizabeth Bundy, co editor, said that she has always wanted to write a book, ever since she was a little girl.
Me too...
Never in her wildest dreams did she think her first book would be about an F3 tornado in Goderich.
Me neither.

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Tornado in Goderich: 3 Months later...

2011-11-19T21:58:00.001-05:00

To read our story about how the tornado has affected our family from the beginning, click here.

3 months.
It has been 3 months.

We now view our lives in terms of the events that happened "pre tornado" and those that have happened "post tornado". And it's only been 3 months.

In some ways the longest, most eventful 3 months of my life, and in other ways, I cannot believe it has already been 3 months. Sometimes I still think it's August.

Until I go outside that is.

Seriously though, everything changed in August and although time and the calendar moves on, for me it still in some ways feels like one giant never ending day.

It has been 3 months.

So how are we doing?

Well...we are doing okay. People ask how the time how I'm doing, how we're doing, how Makenna and Jack are doing. I am careful to answer than we are doing better than we were. Because we are better than we were, but we aren't "all better". It's not over. It's not in the past and we aren't over it. We are better than we were but there is still a long way to go.

3 months later...3 firefighters have given their resignations...some reasons unrelated to the tornado, some reasons related.
3 months later, to the day, my Dad is home. His first time back to Ontario since July, his first time seeing what we have grown accustomed to in the last 3 months. And apparently, he is here to stay.

I returned to work at the end of October, and I am still there. I needed that extra time off, and am glad I took it. I did a lot of healing, a lot of self care during that time, and tried to really focus on the needs of myself and my family. I visited with the Social Worker who is part of our Family Health Team on a few occasions to try to process myself through everything I was thinking and feeling.

One of the things she said to me was this: When you run a marathon, you train for it...Oftentimes for months in advance. Then you go run it, and then you are done. You don't get up and do it all again the next day, and the next, and the next.

When we woke up on Sunday August 21, we expected it to be Just Another Sunday.
Instead, we entered a marathon.
We had no warning, no preparation, no idea what we were doing. We ran a marathon that day, physically, mentally, emotionally...we stretched ourselves to the limit. And then we did it all again the next day. And the next. And the next. With no preparation, no training, no experience, very little sleep...no idea what we were doing. Every day the game changed and we had to keep adapting, and we had to keep up. No time to take a time out and catch our breath. For weeks.
And when things calmed down physically, we continued to run that marathon mentally and emotionally. We went into a second, third and fourth week of mental marathons, with no breaks, no chance to mentally refuel.
When you don't have a chance to rest and refuel, eventually your body and/or your brain will start to short circuit, not work as well, and send you signs that enough is enough.
That's what happened to me. My mind had had enough and was telling me something had to give.
I couldn't stop dealing with my house. I couldn't stop being a mother and trying to help my children through all of their transitions. I couldn't stop being a wife, a firefighter wife and trying to keep my marriage together as it faced the toughest test of its 8 years. I couldn't stop talking to contractors, designing a house, liasing with insurance companies. I had no choice about all that.
So when I tried to add my professional life to the mix, my mind couldn't do it. It shut down on me and said "enough is enough, something has to give here". So for me, the easiest thing to "give" on, was work.

So I did. And I'm glad I did. I needed a chance to rest. To have quiet. To give my full attention to what I needed to in order to move on.
And I did.

I cried. A lot. It was so frustrating. I had absolutely no control over my emotions and always seemed to lose it at the most inappropriate times. I have been a professional "helper" for 10 years now and have never been in the position I have now been put in, before. People who were my equals in my professional life, were now helping me. Seeing a side of me they hadn't before. A side they were used to seeing in people, but not in me.
Jack's daycare teacher, who is a friend of mine, was on the receiving end of that "side" repeatedly and very quickly became able to "read" me as soon as I walked in the door. One day I lost control to the point I needed to walk back out and go through half a box of tissues before I could calmly pick up my son.

It was really difficult to have such little control over my emotions.
But, it was a phase I needed to go through. And I'm glad I did.

Now that I have come out the other side so to speak, people have felt safe enough to tell me how worried they were about me. I knew that. And for those of you who are a distance away from me, I assure you, I had a couple friends in particular keeping very close tabs on me. They thought they were doing it subtly...but I knew. I have done it myself for others before.
But I very much appreciate it, and assure you all I was in good hands with them.
You know who you are. Thank you.

I don't cry as much anymore...in fact, I can't tell you the last time I cried about all this, which is a major milestone for me.

The feelings of anxiety and helplessness are still there, but are less...all encompassing. Its manageable now, thanks to some coping mechanisms that have been put into place for me.

Our house was demolished on November 5, which was a turning point. Now when we drive by our house and our street, there is a feeling of pride...of growing excitement...of hope. There is a lot of work being done on our street and we are all so grateful to everyone who is braving the elements every day to help bring us all home to Park Street.

These people build houses for a living, do it every day and don't think much of it. Some love it, to others maybe it's just a job, but for us, the residents of Park Street....you are doing so much more than building houses. You are restoring our neighbourhood, our lives, our hope. This is not a normal situation. Not a normal job or a normal build. What you are doing is very special and we are all so incredibly grateful and indebted to you for taking this on and helping us get our lives back.

As I write this, our property has a foundation. It is ready for floors and walls to go up. The hope is to have it closed in before the really nasty weather, so they can work inside on it through the winter. We have been given "Early Spring" as an anticipated timeline. Our house will have a finished basement, as it did before, with the addition of a cold cellar...for canning and non perishable foods, yes...but to be honest...that enclosed concrete room is there for other reasons too....just one lesson we learned from all this.
The main floor will be "open concept" with the kitchen at the back of the house, looking out into the backyard. I will have plenty of storage and a nice island in the kitchen too. The three bedrooms will be upstairs and all will have closets, a nice treat for all of us...especially me. We are not getting a Royal Home, it is being custom built by D and J Construction out of Brussels...just another "guy" my brother knew.

I have learned a lot about door styles, siding colours, kitchen layouts and the importance of hinge colours...as I'm sure anyone who has ever built their own house can identify with...and we have only just begun. People are excited for us because we are getting a new house. And we are looking forward to that...more than we were before. We know this is the only way we would have ever been able to custom build a home for ourselves. We know this is an opportunity that very few people get - to build a house and have the majority of it paid for by someone else. I get to have input into what the kitchen looks like, buy brand new stuff, and what we will come out with will be much better than what we had or would have ever had before. We know that. And we know it is only because of a tornado that we are able to do it. Before, it felt like a slap in the face to have people tell us to be happy and excited about getting a brand new house. It doesn't feel quite so harsh now...we know that's the reality, that this is the only way we would have ever been able to do this...but I truly cannot minimize what happened in the first place to bring us to this point. Yes, we are happy we are getting a brand new house, set up to our specifications. I just wish all of the emotional baggage wasn't coming with it.

We have been working away at replacing the items we lost. My brother dragged Jeff and I to a local furniture auction one Sunday afternoon after we had been out much too late the night before. Neither Jeff nor I had ever been to such a thing. Neither of us were really in the mood or expected much to come from it.
A couple hours later I had purchased a dining room table and 6 chairs, a living room set and a bedroom set, complete with boxpring and mattress. Once again Mike knew what he was doing. We have replaced our appliances and are working away on the rest. We are hoping to benefit from Boxing Day Sales and are looking forward to replacing all of the outdoor items we lost next Spring. Jeff really misses his barbecue and lawnmower. Makenna can't wait for a new swingset. I look forward to replacing our Zero Gravity Chairs, hammock swing, and planting new vegetable and flower gardens.

A few weeks ago a woman asked me what the hardest thing has been. It was actually a bit of a difficult question...of everything going on, what one thing was the hardest? Could I name just one thing?
I answered that it was emotional hold it has on me. The unexpected emotions that come out of nowhere, without warning, that I can't control. And the unknowns that come with them...Why do I feel this way? How long will I feel this way? When will this get better? Will this get better? The long terms effects of all of this...that this isn't going away, isn't over...even after 3 months. Also the unknown effects this has all had and will continue to have on my children. That is very difficult for me to come to terms with.

2 1/2 months after the tornado, Jack had a nightmare about it. I was ready and waiting for nightmares in August and September, and was hoping by November we were in the clear. Jack talks about the "storm", our old house and how much he misses it, the fact that a man died, something about that day and everything since, on a daily basis. He incorporates it into his play. It has become a part of him and how he sees the world.

And he isn't even 4 years old.

The first week of school, I met with Makenna's Vice Principal to discuss her usual personality, as well as what I would perceive to be "warning signs" with her at school - signs that she wasn't coping well. School has always been her happy place, and so I was relieved when she easily continued into grade 2 as she always has in the past.
At her parent teacher interview in early November, I learned that she had recently been becoming less focused, quieter, and wasn't putting as much effort into her work as she had been at the beginning of the year. She was starting to slip. That was the day after Jack's nightmare.
I know its only grade 2 and it's only November, and she's been through "a lot", but again, I felt helpless. School has always been a sure thing with Makenna. She is smart, loves to learn and has always been near or at the top of her class...it has come easy to her all along...and for that to be in question now too...could nothing just go as planned??

That was the last time I felt like crying about all this. Thankfully I held it back. But I was so frustrated. This damned tornado was 3 months ago and here we were still dealing with it. I was expecting maybe a tough beginning to the school year for her, but not in November...especially when she started so strong.

Enter my brilliant social worker again, who reminded me that I was doing okay with holding everything together until I returned to work. It was then that my mind said "enough". Maybe Makenna's situation wasn't much different. This was happening at school during the weeks leading up to our house demo, maybe it was just all too much for her to take. The thing is though, I can't pull her out of school for a month.

She of course, claimed not to know what we were talking about and insisted everything was fine, as it always had been.
I didn't want to blame this on the tornado if that wasn't what it was. Its a good excuse, but only if that's the actual problem. She's a 7 year old extremely sensitive, emotional child to begin with....maybe she was having trouble with other students...maybe the work was just getting harder for her, maybe there was a personality conflict somewhere...maybe it was because I myself was preoccupied and not spending as much time overseeing her school work because I assumed she would be fine...or maybe there was something deeper going on because a tornado took away the normal life she knew and she was just now starting to react. I really had no idea at all. That's the problem. You don't know. And you don't know what else is coming down the road as a result of all this. It's bad enough for you as an adult to deal with yourself. It's extremely difficult to see it in your children and have no control over it.

I attended a talk about trauma in children. It was actually put on by the organization where I work, but I attended as a parent. I listened as the speaker, a psychologist from CPRI went through the signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in children, which usually show up 4-6 weeks after a trauma, checking them off in my head as he went along. The difference though, the speaker was sure to point out, was that this "trauma" isn't over yet...its not like a car accident where it happens and then it's over. or a death where it happens, and then it's over. This trauma that we are dealing with is ongoing...there are so many layers to it and there are still signs of it everywhere we look...for us we can't put it behind us or really classify it as "over" until we are back in our house. It was nice to hear an expert say that.
But once again, being the person I am and knowing what I do, I brought another professional into our lives, to try to help my children in ways I can't.

Recently while discussing our situation with a group of moms I know, one asked me, quite unexpectedly, what the "best thing" about all of this has been.

Without hesitation I answered "Community".

We are not victims and have never felt like victims.
We are so very aware of how blessed we are to have the support we do. Jeff and I both are friends with different groups of people, belong to different groups and share a community through the activities of our children.

Through our neighbourhood, our friends, the Fire Department, Victim Services, our employers, the parents of our children's friends, the school and daycare staff, and the clients and colleagues Jeff and I both work with...as well as complete strangers who read this blog or hear our story through others, we feel loved. We feel supported and we know we are not alone. We have gained and strengthened friendships we may not have had the opportunity to have had otherwise. We have been humbled and gained empathy toward others. We understand trauma, which helps both of us immensely in our Volunteer positions.

We know what matters most in life. What is not worth fighting about or stressing over.

We feel like we are a part of this town and are proud to live here. We are glad our kids live here and see everyday the work people are doing to restore our community. The help that comes in from strangers. The "I love Goderich" signs and products everywhere. The lessons they are learning about life and about humanity just by living here are better than we could ever teach them. The messages of love and support we receive on a regular basis are both comforting and empowering.

August 21 was a day that changed our lives.
But not all of it has been bad.
Good has come from that. For all of us.

I feel the need to give back. To be a part of something bigger. Makenna's Principal, who I worked with before Makenna was born, told me I would come to feel that way, and I have.
There is so much I can do, even in little ways to feel like I am contributing. That I am helping to make our little corner even just a bit better, even for just a few people. And so I am. I am surrounding myself with people who have a similar outlook, I'm looking forward, and being proactive.

And it feels good to help others. So so so so so good. To have the best of intentions and feel like you are actually doing something to help someone.
Because now, I know what it's like to be helped. It was huge. Life changing. Going through what we did, and having so many people wrap their arms around us and do whatever they could to help us really changes your outlook on life. On people. And I just want to give that to someone else as much as I can. Because everyone should feel what we did. That love and support. That feeling that someone..many someones..truly cared about what was happening to us.

The Christmas Season is upon us. For some families affected, it is a difficult time this year. Financially, yes, but also emotionally. Some just aren't into it. Don't want to be into it. Can't feel joyful because they are surrounded by and reminded every day of all they have lost and how difficult their lives have become. Their temporary rental accomodations aren't big enough for the big family gatherings they are used to. They lost their decorations and don't want new ones, they just want their old ones back. The ones that held meaning to them.
We have a 7 and 3 year old. As easy as it would be to skip over the decorating and the baking and the giddiness, it's not fair to them. It's not healthy for them. We are always trying to do what is best for our children and what is best for them is as much normalcy and routine as possible. We can't hang our Christmas cards amongst the garland intertwined up the staircase this year - this house is set up differently. We can't hang garland and bows from our front porch. We're not sure if we can even put lights up outside here, we haven't even looked and aren't sure if we still have outdoor lights anyway.
But we can still put up our tree. We can still sprinkle reindeer food. We can still bake cookies and treats for Gramps and Uncle Mike. We can still wrap presents with Christmas songs in the backround. It's a different house, and it's only for one Christmas, but we will still be joyful and excited and find our Christmas Spirit...because we need to.
Next year will be our 7th Christmas on Park Street, but our first in our new home....in our old neighbourhood that will have a brand new look. New traditions will blend with the old and we look forward to that a year from now.

This year both of our children were part of the Goderich Santa Claus Parade; Jack with the Fire Department and Makenna with her cheerleading group. Makenna had to be chaperoned so I dressed in layers and walked behind the group as part of one of the biggest parades in Goderich's history. It was a beautiful night and the streets were lined with people who live here, and people who don't...all who came because they love our town and wanted the reassurance that yes, we are all doing okay. Our community is vibrant, strong, and carrying on. I watched my 7 year old dance and bounce her way through town, her friend Kate helping lift her into the air every now and then, big smiles on their faces the entire time. The first parade they had ever been in and they loved every second of it.

And as we walked behind them, Kate's mom and I proudly carried the sign that had been affixed to the fence condemning our house. "Thank You for Helping to Rebuild Canada's Prettiest Town".
This was my way of saying Thank you.
To those of you I know, and those of you I don't, but who know me and my family. For all you have done, and continue to do for us, and for our town. We notice. We appreciate it. We are thankful.

We are doing okay.

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Tornado in Goderich: Day 77...Demo Day

2011-11-07T17:29:00.001-05:00

To read earlier posts about the tornado, click here.

Day 77...

79 Days ago, on August 21 2011 an F3 Tornado roared down our street and severely damaged our home. A by law was put in place saying we could rebuild exactly the way it had been before, on the same "footprint", but not until after November 6. So we waited.
And waited and waited and waited.

And day after day we drove by or down our street, looking at the house we had became a family in over the past 6 years, the first house Jeff and I bought, thinking of that day in August, thinking of the past, hating the way the house looked now, wanting to move on but unable to.November 6 was a huge day on our calendar. We were just waiting for official word as to when Demo Day would actually be.

Last Wednesday we received word that Demo Day would be Saturday, Nov 5. I went to bed that Wednesday night with knots in my stomach, my heart and mind racing. It took a long time to fall asleep. This was it. It was really happening. I wondered what I would be like come Saturday.

I found it odd when people asked us if we planned to watch our house come down. This was our house. Our home. We had been inside it when the tornado came through and kept going back to it throughout that week. We had emptied all of our belongings out of it, but it was still ours. That was our home. I have already discussed in detail in other blog posts what it meant to us, what it was to us.I think if we were to drive by one day and see it there, and then drive by a few days later and see nothing but a big hole...I think we would have felt like we missed something. A big something. That the process wasn't complete for us.

For over 2 months we have been grieving.
Yes, things will work out.
Yes, we are getting a new house. One we never would have gotten otherwise.
Yes, we are physically fine.
But we didn't plan this. Didn't think about it for a year or two, research everything out, talk to a bank and choose this path. We were not prepared for all the decisions needing to be made in such a short time. Huge, life altering decisions. We had no idea what we were doing and quite often were not in the right frames of mind.
We had no control over any of this and emotionally, all 4 of us have pretty deep scars

To miss the demolition of our home, something we had been waiting for for 77 days, something that needed to happen in order for us to physically move forward, wasn't a possibility for us. We needed to see it, to say goodbye, in order to emotionally move forward.
If a loved one dies, you go to the visitation. You go to the funeral. You say goodbye.
This was our home. We had to say goodbye. How could we not be there? Would you miss it if it were your home?

My only hesitation was whether or not to have our 3 and 7 year old children present for the demolition. I wasn't sure how they would react, if it would be wise to have them there, what the right thing to do was.
I consulted a few "expert" friends of mine, each of which said I would know what was best for my own children when the time came. To trust myself.

Last week Jack had his first nightmare about the tornado and I learned that in the last couple weeks Makenna has been quieter, less focused and under performing in the classroom.

Sigh.

When we learned that the Demo would be held on a Saturday morning, the choice seemed to be made for us. They would have to come along, and if they reacted badly, we would deal with it then. A couple of my good friends offered to be on standby to come pick up the kids and take them for the day if need be.

I didn't work on Friday, the day before the demo, and it was a PA Day for Makenna. Jeff texted me that morning to tell me that 2 houses in our area were in the process of demolition. I asked the kids if they would like to go to watch, hoping to somewhat prepare them for what they would see at our place the following day. They seemed excited at the idea, so off we went.

The three of us stood on the corner of Park and Cambria Streets and watched "Nessie's" house come down. Behind us, the Vanstone home had come down a few weeks earlier and the hole for the new home was being dug. I explained the process to the kids, and chatted with Mr Vanstone, an older man who was there watching too. I told him how Lynn, Makenna, Jack and I had walked all through this area and trekked through his backyard, climbed over his fallen trees where Lynn lost her sandal, just before we finally found my mom the next block over.

My kids and I then walked down Park St towards our home where I showed them the Youngs' house, which was beginning to be framed. I told them this would be another step we would see take place at our house once the old one came down.
They seemed to handle all of this well, so I felt okay about bringing them to our demo the following morning.

We told our friends and family that the house would be coming down on Saturday and welcomed anyone who wanted to come watch with us to do so. My mom was glad it was happening on a Saturday; this way she and my Grandma could come from Fordwich/Gorrie to watch. I asked my brother on Thursday if he was coming, and he said he was going to work in Guelph in the morning and would be there shortly after lunchtime, assuming he wouldn't have missed much by then. I have to admit, after the huge role he had played in all of this, I was surprised he was opting to work, but I didn't question his decision.

We put the kids to bed, reminding them tomorrow was a big day, and hoped we would be able to sleep ourselves.

Around 10pm on Friday night, Mike phoned to tell us he was friends with one of the guys that worked for the excavating company, had just been talking to him, and was told the hi hoe was already in our driveway and that demo was starting at 8 am sharp. Mike said his plans had changed, that he had said from the beginning he wouldn't miss it, he wasn't going to, and would see us in the morning. I laughed, glad he was coming. When I texted my mom this latest development, she wasn't sure she would be there that early, but would get there as soon as she could the next morning. Such a huge event in her daughter and grandchildren's lives, there was nowhere else she and my Grandma would be.

I went for a quick drive across town and confirmed that yes, there in the dark, was a hi hoe sitting in our driveway, waiting for the sun to rise.

This was really happening. Our house was going to be demolished. Tomorrow.
This doesn't happen everyday. Most people go through their entire lives never experiencing what we had and were about to.

It seemed to really hit Jeff on Friday. Up until now we still had a house. No, we couldn't live in it, but it was still ours. We could drive by it and still see it there and remember all the times we spent in it. After tomorrow, that house would be gone. All evidence of our lives there erased. Demolished.

Gone.

He said he felt like after tomorrow, we really would be homeless. All we would own is a hole.
I understood this feeling well, as I had been struggling with it for a couple months now.
*********************************************************************************

Makenna awoke at 3am, ready to go. As we settled her back into bed she asked if she could just read until it was time to get up. We shook our heads no, turned off the light and told her to go back to sleep.
She is so much her mother's daughter.

Jack was heard calling "I'm awake!" at 7am on the dot. Other than that 3am blip, we were grateful to have slept well. We dressed in layers, had breakfast and rounded up some lawnchairs and blankets. The sun wasn't even up yet. There was heavy frost on the grass and it was cold outside. We would need winter coats, hats and mitts. Makenna was happy she got to wear her BOGS boots I had just purchased off of Kijiji for her on Thursday.

When the doorbell rang at 7:30am scaring the crap out of me, I knew it could only be one person.

Mike came in with his winter coat and touque on, a smile on his face, trying to subtly assess what kind of mood I was in. When he saw I was okay he asked "Does Jack have a toy hard hat?"

This is why he is with us every step of the way. He thinks of things he knows I would want but don't think of on my own.

I dug his toy hard hat out of the dress up box and Mike and Jeff fastened it onto Jack's head over his winter hat. Jack didn't really understand yet, but didn't complain.
Thank you Mike, for thinking of that.

We left our house at 7:50am, Jeff and the kids in Jeff's truck, Mike and I in his car, me with my cell phone, camera, and flip video camera thing all ready to go. My neighbour Joyce had left a message that they would be away so we parked in their driveway and saw that our contractor and the excavating crew were already there. We set the kids up in the back of the pick up truck and I turned to see my mom and Grandma coming from the bank parking lot, coffees in hand . They had made it in time. My grandma reached out to rub my back when she reached me, and I assured her I was okay.

It was still kind of dark.
And freezing cold.

Grandma unloaded a bag full of leftover chips and cheesies from Halloween. Coupled with the Timbits Jeff had gotten them, the kids had a great breakfast ;) When Jack saw our Contractor and his white hard hat, he beamed. Now he understood why he was wearing his yellow one.
Mom and Grandma went back to the car for something while Mike and I went to look at the back yard. The next thing we knew, we heard a big crash.

Just like that, without any fanfare or final words, The demo had started. We hurried back out front, Mike laughing at the sight of Mom and Grandma running over from the bank. I handed my camera to him and started snapping pictures with my cell phone. Jeff stood by his truck with Makenna and Jack, running the flip video camera. I stood there on the sidewalk for a few minutes with Mike, Mom and Grandma as the first few swipes were taken at our house. 8am. Right on time.

When Jeff determined the kids were okay a few minutes later, he brought them over to the sidewalk where we were standing, and there our family stood, Jeff, me, Makenna, Jack, Mom, Grandma and Mike, quietly watching our house come down.

I kept looking down at the kids. Makenna was quiet, but dry eyed, taking it all in. I couldn't really tell, but I thought she was okay. She told me she was, so I took her word for it.
I knew how Jack was doing. He squealed in delight with each big crash, loving every minute. My brother's eyes lit up every time Jack squealed and danced around.

Jeff and I didn't say much for the first 10 minutes or so, just watching in wonder. Jeff put the video camera away, saying he just wanted to watch. I was glad I had given my camera to Mike, as he was snapping away while I watched the demo myself. Like Jack, he had a big smile on his face. Every boy's dream, I suppose...all the big machinery and destruction. Again, not something you see up close every day. I caught everyone there, from my Grandma to my Contractor, eyeing me. Waiting to see if I would hold it together or fall apart.

And you know what?
No tears came.

I didn't even realize it until about 15 minutes into the demo...but I was okay. I really was. Maybe I had already started to detach from this house. We had gotten all of our stuff out, it had been 2 1/2 months since we had lived in it, we had settled as a family across town...I had taken time to grieve, had talked to my Doctor and Social Worker, as well as a few friends in the field. I had cried, and cried and cried. I had called and texted my friends when I needed them and taken help when it was offered. I had been through emotional hell in the last 77 days, and today, I was ready. Today was about saying goodbye, which I needed to do, but it was also about starting fresh. About acknowledging and honouring this house, but also about making way for the new one.

Because we had everything out of it, it was easier. Because so much time had passed and I had taken the steps I needed to to get through this, I was calmer. If we had lost everything and had to watch them flatten, destroy and dump all of our belongings, that would have been painful. If it had have happened within the first few weeks of the tornado, my reaction would have been different. I cried while watching Deb Bell's house come down for those 2 reasons.

But on this day, in our case, it was time. The only time my stomach lurched a bit was at the very beginning, when the bucket took its frst few swipes, and I could see inside the kitchen and living room, see the wallpaper borders on the walls that we had put up when we first moved in. I remembered complaining when we first painted the kitchen that the colour reminded me of Kraft Dinner.A hundred memories of standing in that kitchen flashed before me in that moment when I saw the interior walls with their paint and borders.

A reminder that it wasn't just an empty abandoned building. That had been our home. Yes, it hurt, but not as much as it used to.

The first person other than family to join us there that morning was Sheila's husband Jeff. Fitting, since he had been one of the first to come help me in the immediate aftermath. I heard my mom ask who he was and Mike whispered that he was one of the guys who came and never left my side.
Jeff got out of his truck, a bit surprised to see the house pretty much down already and put his arm around me. He stayed for awhile, watching, chatting and taking pictures. Not long after he left again, Sheila arrived with their daughters and stayed with us until we left, many hours later. She brought donuts, took my kids for a walk, and stood at my side for hours. I laughed when she asked if it was noon yet and I told her it was almost 2pm. She was there, in her quiet, unwavering supportive way, as she always has been.
We were also joined by my friend Barb and her 4 year old son Luke. Their family was at the bank and came over to join us while we watched. You can't keep a little boy away from something like that! By now the kids were heavy into the chips and cheesies and having a great little party. It was reassuring to see that Makenna and Jack seemed to be doing fine.

After an hour or so I saw Patti walking down the street towards us. She hadn't realized it had started so early and was bummed that she missed the beginning. Sheila and I had joked earlier that Patti could just watch from her upstairs window since most of the trees between her place and mine had come down. Patti stayed, and it seemed fitting that for quite awhile I was flanked by her and Sheila, as I had been in the days after the tornado. At one point Jeff informed her that her two dogs were in our backyard and so she hurried off chasing them around the neighbourhood.
My friend Brenda drove by, bringing laughter to all of us as she "threw a hug" at me from her moving van on the way to Seaforth.
Jeff's employers, Sean and Melissa, had planned to be there at the beginning, wanting to videotape the entire process for it. When they arrived just before 9am, Sean was heartbroken to see he had missed most of it and they were already trucking loads out. He turned the camera on anyway, and we look forward to seeing what he was able to capture. It was still very cold and we had put the kids into the truck to warm up a bit. My toes were starting to hurt from the cold, but none of us were going anywhere. Sean and Melissa were nice enough to bring coffee and donuts from Tim Horton's for everyone, which we were all very grateful for. It was the first day I can ever remember drinking 2 large cappuccinos one right after the other.
We also had visits from Keith and Wendy (the Deputy Fire Chief and his wife, who also brought us Tim Hortons goodies), Darren and Alexis, who we had lived with for 2 weeks and are so much closer with now, John and Kathy Young, whose house up the street was also demo'd and is already being framed. Kathy and I had never met prior to the tornado, and since that time have become good friends. Our neighbours Rick and Christa came for awhile, and my friends Tammy and Jodi and their boys all stopped over too. Jodi brought us a gift, inscribed with the saying "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain". A gift that will hold a prominent place in our new home.

We had various clients from the shop Jeff works at and random onlookers; people going to and from the bank, driving down our street, etc. Some stood across the road taking pictures, others came right up to talk to us and ask questions as to how we were doing.
I also received numerous facebook comments, messages and BBMs throughout the morning from friends and family who were thinking of us and sending support from afar.
There were 3 dump trucks working to haul everything away and it all moved very smoothly. At times when they were all out, the hi hoe would take time to try to "organize" the debris, scrape the back yard, or just take a break. Mike wandered around searching for treasures and early on found an old matchbook from at least the 1950s embedded in concrete.

We watched as a scrap pile was created from the rubble - our fridge from the garage, which the hi hoe lifted high into the air and shook, to get the contents out of it, before dropping it on the grass. He dug out our bathtub, nothing more than a pancake now, even emptied our rainbarrel and found pieces of copper piping. I smiled as the water heater emerged from the basement, wondering if the water heater guys would like it now. Our furnace was placed in the pile too, virtually unrecognizable.
The original log beams that the house was built out of were lifted out in their entireties and easily snapped into pieces. I had wondered about incorporating a few of them into decorative accents for our new home, but a consensus was quickly met that they were all full of dry rot. Which I think suited my husband just fine.

We watched as the hi hoe manoeuvered around the yard for quite awhile, a purple exercise ball rolling around with it. Patti couldn't believe it hadn't been crushed yet, pronouncing it as a sign that it should come with us. We watched as ribbons of what could only be VCR tape streamed down from the hi hoe bucket as it continued to lift loads into the dumptruck. We saw the bedding and pillows from our bed, our living room furniture, and old toys from the basement, all thrown into the dump trucks. The hi hoe lifted out every tree on the property by its roots as if they were twigs and lifted the fence and clothesline poles out as if they were barely even in the ground.

Makenna did well until the hi hoe went after the items in the back yard. She whispered to her Daddy that she didn't want it to take her swingset and as we tried to reassure her we would get her a new one, the highhoe picked it up and crushed it. We grew quiet as we watched her eyes fill and chin quiver. But she held it together.
She had had so many hours of fun on that swingset. Had helped her Daddy build it when she received it as a gift from her grandparents at 2 years old. Her smile was always so big when she was swinging. One of her favourite things in the world.

Gone. 7 Years old. So unfair.

Jack kept that hard hat on, and at different times was seen surveying the scene with his Daddy, Uncle and our Contractor. The kids picked up little pieces of debris and threw it into the hole for the high hoe to scoop up and while waiting for the dump trucks to come back, they both even had the opportunity to have their pictures taken inside the hi hoe.

Making the best of a difficult situation right?

Makenna was happy playing with Sheila's girls on the grass and sidewalk, everything from make believe to science experiments. Her grade 2 teacher even stopped by and had a chat with her about all that was going on, which we thought was very sweet of her to do.

By 2pm all that was left was a hole with smashed up concrete blocks in it...what was left of our foundation. My mom and grandma returned from a trip to the mall with a Happy Meal for Makenna and Jack, and we decided it was time to leave. Jeff went over to say good bye to our contractor, who was staying for awhile yet to ensure all of the concrete was trucked away. He promised he'd be back Monday morning to begin the process of building us a new home.

And so, one more chapter in this story comes to an end. The house that became our home, that nurtured our marriage and our children, that was a safe haven from the many outside daily threats and stresses, that we did our best to fix up with the time and resources we had, that did its best to shelter and protect us from the worst storm this area has seen in decades, that had been battered, broken and falling down for the past 2 1/2 months, has been put to rest.

As the sun rose today, November 7 2011, the next chapter began.
48 hours after the demolition of our old house, we have new footings.
And with that, the story of our new house begins.

The kids in my Kitchen: Apple Crisp!

2011-10-23T14:34:00.001-04:00

For those that are new here since the tornado, The Kids in My Kitchen is an ongoing series detailing the adventures my kids and I have in the kitchen together. We choose a recipe, make it together and I blog about it. I think it's important for the kids to be in the kitchen with us, and this article does an excellent job of explaining why I feel that way. To see what all we have blogged about in the kitchen, click here.

It has been quite awhile since I have added to this series, but on Friday I finally had the opportunity. Just Jack and I for the day, we decided to make Apple Crisp for when Daddy came home for lunch.

I know apple recipes are more a September thing, and that we're almost through October now, but bear with me. It's still Fall. It is perfect apple crisp weather. And that's all that matters right?

My Apple Crisp recipe comes from my mom's side of the family. I don't know whose recipe it was originally, but I know at least my mom and my aunt make it the same way. The one in my recipe box is written in my cousin Krissy's handwriting and was given to me at one of my bridal showers 8 years ago...when Krissy was 17.

First, peel, core and slice 6 cups of apples.

Taking the kids to the Apple Orchard to get the apples is a great first step.
I didn't do that. Mine came from the store.

Jack's first job was to count out 6 apples.

Then I showed him how to work our Handy Dandy Starfrit Apple Peeler. He loved this. Of course, you could just peel the apples with a knife, but this way Jack could be involved. With a little help he peeled the 6 apples "all by myself!" I just got a Pampered Chef Apple Peeler...have you seen those things? They are for the serious apple peeler. Haven't tried it out yet, but it looks cool.

Next you core all the apples. Again, you can do this with a knife, but I am quite attached to this tool here which takes seconds to use. Jack tried, but didn't quite have the strength. So this was a Mommy job. This tool cored and sliced the apples at the same time, so as I was doing that, Jack could add the sliced apples to the casserole dish.

You can use any type of baking pan or dish. I like this one because it has a lid, which makes it easy for transporting, and for storing in the fridge.

Sprinkle the apples with 1 tbsp of lemon juice.

Roughly ;)

Then you make your crumbly topping:
Stir 6 tbsps of melted butter, 3/4 cup brown sugar, 3/4 cup quick cooking oats, 1/2 cup flour and 1 tsp cinnamon until crumbly. Jack's job was to dump the ingredients into the bowl and help stir.

Sprinkle this mixture evenly over the apples.

Microwave (I put the lid one) on high for 6-8 mins until apples are tender. If you like, you can add ice cream or whipped cream before serving, but Jack is not a fan of ice cream, so we didn't.

I know.

It is the perfect, quick fall dessert, and a very kid friendly recipe, if you approach it the right way.

And Jack was so proud that he helped make it!

"Willy's Restaurant"

2011-10-14T11:37:00.000-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here

Jack really enjoys one on one time with Mommy and Daddy. He gets that every Friday while his sister is at school (I haven't worked Fridays since he was born) and some Fridays nights while she is at the YMCA.
This morning after we walked Makenna to school we settled into play one of his favourite games; "Willy's Restaurant".

I don't know where the name "Willy" came from. He has never been to Wicked Willy's in Goderich and doesn't even know it existed. And this is a game we played long before the tornado.

This game involves the toy kitchen, toy food and play money. I visit him at the kitchen (restaurant) with my money and he tells me what to buy and how much it will cost me.

This all takes place inside the toy room, so as we play I tidy up the rest of the toyroom.
Cause its always a mess.

Today, after I had made my first purchase, he told me to go home. I said that my home was right beside the restaurant (so that I could clean up the Little People that are right beside the toy kitchen).

This is the conversation that followed:

"I live right beside Willy's Restaurant"
"What happened to your old house?"
"...I don't know...what did happen to it?"
"It got broken".
"...it did?...how?"
"A bad Tunderstorm" (thunderstorm).
"...Oh, really? Well I am here now so I am okay"
"Yes, cause you are in a new house now"
"...Yeah...but even when the storm came WE were okay, because we were in the basement..."
"Ya, but I was really cared" (Scared)
"I know...but we were okay, we didn't get hurt".
"Yeah, but somebody got died"
"Yes, one person died"
"But the news said 2 people got died"
"No, the news was wrong, one person died".
""Who got died? What was their name?"
"Norman"
"My friend Rob?" (Referring to one of the firemen)
"No, no, not Rob, Rob is fine, you have seen him".
"But where does he live?'
"Rob lives in Goderich".
"is his house broken?"
"nope, his house is just fine".
"can I see the man who got died?"
"No"
"But why not?"
"Because we don't see people anymore after they die"
"But I don't think we should go outside anymore when it is a rainy day"
"Well...we just did. It was raining when we walked Makenna to school right? and we were okay"
"but I don't think we should go outside when it's tormy (stormy). It was really loud. I was cared (scared)".
"I know you were. it's okay to be scared. But we were okay."
"Because we were in the basement".
"Right".

"Do you want some ice cream from Willy's Restaurant Mommy?"
"yes, yes I do".

***SIGH*****

Why am I sharing this here?
I scribbled it all down on paper right after, (while "eating" my ice cream) because i wanted to remember it.
And to, once again, give you a glimpse into what it's like.

I had no idea that was about to come out of his mouth. I had no idea it was in his head to begin with.
He is 3 1/2 years old.
It was 7 weeks ago.
But it has stuck with him. He remembers, and it has stuck with him.

I am constantly trying to process all of this myself, and was reminded this morning, that so are my children. And I have to help them through it. Even at the most random, unexpected moments, I have to remember to be present, available and able to talk them through their feelings. Tor really listen to what they are saying and realize what they may not be saying, or what they may be trying to say.

I don't know what has been going on his little head, or for how long. I have been given glimpses here and there and have made guesses here and there, but today, for the first time, my little boy pretty much laid it all out on the table for me and we had a real conversation about it. All because I sat down to play "Willy's Restaurant" with him. All because I said my house was beside the restaurant. Under any other circumstances, Jack and I never would have had that conversation.

The Social Worker in me wants to tout the benefits of play therapy, but i think it's pretty self explanatory isn't it?

Even at 3 years old, kids know.
They know, they remember and they think.

We have to remember that.
We have to always be listening.

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Tornado in Goderich: 7 weeks later.

2011-10-11T22:51:00.000-04:00

To read previous entries about the tornado, click here.

The thoughts are starting to jumble and overcrowd my mind, so here I am, back to try to sort them out.

I have been quiet on here, because I haven't really had much to say. There hasn't been much "news" to report and more than anything, we are just waiting. Waiting for our house to be demolished, waiting for the rebuilding process to begin, waiting to move on with our lives.

Waiting may be one of the hardest parts of this process.

Almost every day we drive by Park Street. We drive by it to get across town. To get out of town. I mean yes, we could detour down other streets so that we don't see our house, but we don't. We are not going to avoid it. My bank is there. We have to drive by it to get the mail. Because of course the mail is not being delivered to our house right now so we need to pick it up at the Post Office.
Aside: When I did pick up the mail at the Post Office this morning, I was informed that tomorrow mail delivery would resume to Park Street so from now on I would be getting it there. I just looked at the woman. "Um, my house has a big orange fence around it...we aren't living there...they can't physically access it to deliver mail there". "Well, it says they can" she replied.
Hmmm...I wonder how they will deliver it to Deb's "house" 2 doors up. Or the two Hakkers homes or the Vanstone home on the corner..the ones that are no longer there, having been demolished already. Maybe they will just stick in their orange fences.

Anyways, the waiting. It's hard.
We feel stalled. We feel like yes, we want to move on, we need to move on, as everyone keeps saying.
But its hard when every day you drive by your house and see it still there, still ruined, the backyard in the same state it was in by 4:30 on the afternoon of August 21. It has been 7 weeks now. Our house is still standing but we still aren't supposed to be in it. Its hard to put it into words, what that's like. Its draining. I
~~think~~ hope that once it has finally come down and we start to see physical progress on that property, we will be able to feel excited about the process of moving forward.

There has been lots of progress behind the scenes. We have the house plans drawn up and have a few different very talented women designing plans for the inside. We have settled our contents claim and are in a position to start replacing the items we have lost. Tops on my list - our terrycloth bathrobes. Tops on Jeff's list: BBQ and lawnmower.

So why have other homes came down and not ours? I will try to explain.
Nowadays when you build a new house, it needs to be so many feet away from your neighbours' property lines. When our house was originally built, that rule wasn't in place and so our garage sits pretty much directly on our neighbour's property line, violating the current "policy", shall we say. In a normal situation, if we wanted to tear the house down and rebuild it, we would need to change the layout so that it was further away from Christa's property line.

Since the tornado hit, the Town of Goderich tabled a motion stating that homeowners needing to rebuild could in fact ignore this rule and rebuild it the exact way it had been prior to the tornado - regardless of how close it was to the property line. This is what we want to do...we want our garage to sit where it did before because if it doesn't and we need to re-position everything as per the "new" rules, we would lose a lot of our backyard.

Following me so far?

So, The Town of Goderich, said "no, we will allow you to rebuild the way it was (On the current 'footprint', it's called). This entire process is called a "Variance". Because it is new and the town is allowing it just because of the tornado, there is a waiting period for this "variance" to be passed. I doubt very much I have all the terminology right, but hopefully you get the general idea.

That waiting period ends on November 6. So although yes, we could demolish it anytime, we cannot start any rebuilding until after November 6. Our contractor who is taking care of the demo along with the rebuild would prefer not to demo it until he can get in there and start rebuilding right away. Otherwise, among other things he would need to fill the hole while he waited, then come back and dig it all back out again to pour the foundation.

We completely understand this.

It's just the waiting sucks.

There are still days that this whole situation just catches up with me and I have to stop and think "Is this really my life now?" Is this really all happening? A few days ago I was filling out a form about August 21 and had to write that date a few times. I am used to that by now, but when I signed the form at the bottom and dated it with the current date, October, I had to stop. It's October. This all happened in August and it's October now. We are still dealing with everything and in so many ways it feels like August will last forever. But no, it's October. I often wonder how we would be and what we would be doing/thinking if this hadn't happened. I doubt I would have allowed Makenna to take this cheerleading class, as the cost is higher than I normally allow. But the Mommy guilt got to me. I would be at work and very busy with fall programming. I am completely absent from all of that right now. I would have decorated for Thanksgiving, taken the kids to the apple orchard and made half a dozen different apple recipes with them. I could have still done that, but by the time it occured to me it was too late. I have been too busy with house plans and insurance claims and appointments, and the motivation just isn't there. So much has changed just in our day to day lives as a result of this tornado, its hard to even remember what we would be normally doing. Jodi would still be on maternity leave and Jack would still be at the daycare, but where would Makenna be before and after school? I hadn't even fully figured that out by August 21, figuring I still had almost a month to do so. Somedays all of the changes, just the day to day changes, too many to list here, really catch up with me.

But as the shock is wearing off, other feelings are creeping in.
Like sadness.

I miss my house.
It has been so beautiful outside lately, I miss our backyard. The vegetable garden, the flowers, the plants that would be blooming now. Yes, we have a big(ger) backyard where we are now, with a (better) swingset, but it's not the same. It's not ours. I miss sitting at our patio table under the gazebo for picnics or just to watch the kids play. I miss their outdoor toys. Playing catch. I miss the sounds of our ponds. I miss our front porch. So much. I miss sitting out there with Jeff once the kids went to bed talking about our days, people watching. I miss rocking in the hammock swing or on the Glider. I miss watching the kids play on the sidewalk or on the front yard from my opened screen door. I miss chatting with our neighbours.
I miss knowing where everything is. I miss the pictures and prints that were on the walls. I miss my kids' bedrooms and the memories they hold.
I miss my house.

There are people from Park Street I didn't even know before August 21. Living just up the street and I would see them, but didn't know their names, where they worked, that we had mutual friends, anything.
Now, some of those people are the ones I can talk to, really talk to, about all of this, and know that they understand. We have an unspoken bond between all of us now. We saw things in eachother during those first couple hours that we will never forget. The kids of raw, true human emotions that people rarely show eachother. Since then we have learned so much more about eachother, just because we have been forced to come together. Before that day we never gave a second thought as to who was living where...now we are displaced all over town, wondering where the other families are, how they are doing and what is happening with their homes. When we do come face to face, their is an unspoken understanding. I miss our neighbourhood. It looks that an inner city ghetto now. I want it to be fixed and I very much look forward to the day when we are all back where we should be again.

All that has happened has changed me and the way I react to things. I get teary so much quicker, and in ways I didn't before. The kindness and generosity of people, of friends, aquaintances and strangers, brings me to tears. Simple acts of kindness really affect me in ways they never did before. Its embarassing at times, what brings me to tears. People compliment me on my children, how smart they are, or say that they are role models for the others in their classes, and I get teary. I was at the Oktoberfest parade on the weekend, which was led by the marching of War Veterans. We gave them a standing ovation as they marched by and I could barely even watch, I was so close to tears. Song lyrics just about kill me. On the radio while driving, on youtube videos, on TV..everything seems to carry a deeper meaning now.
The mommy guilt has me teary on a regular basis too. What all of this has done to their lives, how they way we are handling it has impacted their lives...the conversations they have had to have with people because of all that has happened. I just want this to be done for them. Just a blip in their lives, not a defining moment. It's not moving fast enough in their lives for my liking.

Loud, busy, confined places continue to affect me. Sometimes that can be in a store, sometimes it's my kitchen. It's not all the time, and it's not every loud busy place... restaurants don't bother me at all...(maybe I'm just so happy to be eating out, lol)...I can't explain it...but there are times, and places, that I wish I could escape from and retreat to somewhere quiet.

I talk to friends and aquaintances whose homes were not nearly as affected as mine was...but their minds were. The effects of this tornado on this town are so far reaching, across so many domains, its hard to even comprehend. Outside stresses such as insurance issues, job losses or the reactions of other people have created stresses on many marriages. As have spouses' coping strategies (turning to alcohol, drugs, gambling, etc to get through), a lack of communication, or turning on and blaming eachother out of frustration. People who had no damage to their homes can't sleep at night. Others may not have lost their homes, but were out of work and have suffered financial difficulties they were not prepared for. We all know the effect that can have on a person, and on a marriage. Still others struggle with "survival guilt", wondering why they were spared when others they know have suffered so much. These people feel guilty putting through small insurance claims that they need to deal with, worried that they are taking the people away from the work that needs to be done in heavily affected areas. Or they feel guilty for being happy. For carrying on as if nothing has happened, because really, nothing did happen to them. Fighting the guilt, the sadness, the anxiety and fear you are having because you feel you shouldn't have those feelings in the first place, compared to others you know, only makes it worse. Everyone reacts. Even if its just the sound of a tree you heard coming down, even if its because you were out of work for a few weeks, even if its because you have been trying to hold it all together and be strong for your family and those around you... even if its compassion fatigue...that you are just worn down from helping others and can't do it, don't want to listen to it anymore...if it affected you, it affected you. You are no less entitled to your feelings than I am. There are plenty of people in this town worse off than me, but I am not understating or downplaying my feelings, because they are mine, I am entitled to them and I need to feel them. So do you.

The only way to get through it, is to allow yourself to go through it.

And while that's not easy, it's the only way. Believe me. You have to allow yourself to feel it, to grieve what you lost, no matter how trivial you perceive it to be, and you have to find good, caring people who will allow you to do so in your own way and on your own time. Who you feel safe with and who will allow you to be you...no matter what that may look like.

Other people are ready to move on, just want to put this behind them and are tired of hearing and talking about it. When you are out of your home, living in someone else's home and confronted with the reality of your ruined home every single day...when the reason you can walk your daughter to and from school is because of where you live now due to the fact that you can't live in your own home because of the damage it sustained, when feelings of anxiety, sadness and fear choke you at the most unexpected moments, over and over again and render you incapable of doing a job you have been doing for over 10 years... talking about getting over it and moving on is like a slap in the face and perhaps the most insensitive thing you could say. This is my life, and the life of many other people in this town, every minute of every day. Every single thing about my life right now is different and will continue to be, because of a tornado that was 12 seconds long.

7 weeks later, we are still waiting.
And many people are still struggling.

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Seven.

2011-10-06T23:10:00.001-04:00

Every year on their birthdays, Jeff and I write each child a letter in their scrapbooks. This is Makenna's. To learn more about why we do this, click here.

Dear Makenna.

This letter is a little over a month late. Your seventh birthday is one that the adults in the family will always remember. Just a couple weeks prior to your birthday, an F3 tornado destroyed our home. A day we will never forget.
It would be easy to fill this letter with how it felt to be your mom during everything that has happened since that day. But that happened just 2 weeks before your birthday. You had an entire year of greatness leading up to that day that cannot be overlooked. That day and the couple weeks that followed were lifechanging, but you will read no shortage of stories and information on that in the years to come. Today, we are going to celebrate the everyday greatness of you.

Seven years old. Grade 2. I'm starting to wonder where the time has went. You tell me on a daily basis how much you love to read. Everything from comic books to novels, you soak it all up. This year the two of us enjoyed reading books that we could follow up by watching the movies together. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Wizard of Oz, Anne of Green Gables, James and the Giant Peach...I've really enjoyed introducing you to such classics.

Over the past year you have come a long way in your swimming lessons. You are so happy in the water and its been great to see how well you have come along. You partook in dance classes, Girls Groups and even children's yoga at the YMCA. We enjoyed ice skating as a family on Sunday afternoons and you improved and gained confidence with each week. This past summer you played Rally Cap again and were named Baseball Canada's Rally Cap Player of the Week in July, which scored you some cool swag from Baseball Ontario, swag specifically for female ball players. You also played in the Jr Rookie league and were one of only two girls on the team. You did well, and played phenomenally in the year end tournament. We were so proud of you. You still have no interest in learning to ride a bike or a scooter but love to draw, write, cook and bake. You mastered cracking eggs and reading recipes this last year and I love having you help out in the kitchen. You are such a helpful girl, such a good girl, in every way. You are really starting to grow up. You have a core group of girlfriends that you have become closer to over the past year and I have enjoyed watching these friendships develop as I reflect on my own childhood friendships. You can spend hours playing on your own, lost in a world of Barbies and Littlest Pet Shops. You are always crafting, always creating and I am happy to provide you with a room full of materials in which to do so.
Boys are starting to creep into the picture, just a bit, as you divulged your first of many crushes to me over this past year. I worked hard to take you seriously, hide my smiles and control your ridiculously over protective father...a balance that will get more delicate as the years go on I am sure.

As we look forward to what the next year has in store...there's a lot on the horizon. We will be building a new house and moving forward from what has been a landmark time in your life...one you will not fully understand for years to come. You are already looking forward to your eighth birthday and the moment when you will not need to ride in a booster seat anymore. I am looking forward to the next year and all that it holds in store for you. This year, along with swimming you have taken on competitive cheerleading and will enjoy and benefit from a whole new experience. I always admire your confidence and self assurance and hope these are traits you always have in the tumultuous years ahead.

This year is going to be a busy, eventful one for you, and for all of us. But if there's anything the last month has taught your dad and I, it's that family is all that truly matters, and as long as we have our family, we can get through anything. The road may get bumpy, but we will always be here to guide you and do our best to keep you safe. I love you, and am so very proud of who you are, and who you are becoming.

Love you to the moon and back,
Mom.

Who wants to learn more about their insurance policy?

2011-10-04T21:17:00.000-04:00

I decided to write a blogpost about insurance.

The different types, what they mean and don't mean, what to watch out for, how to read between the lines, etc.

I quickly realized though, that I don't know enough about it to write something and put it out there and have people read it as "fact"...I am not comfortable enough in my own knowledge to do that.

But I know someone who is....:)

I spoke with a contact of mine who worked in the insurance field for many years. Sold policies and dealt with claims everyday. Since this tornado she has been helping a number of people in Goderich understand what they have and don't have, and guiding them on how to communicate effectively with their insurance agents to get what they feel they deserve.

Friends and I were talking and all agreed there should be a class given to help you understand your policy, and what the alternative options to your policy are. What you may be missing.

Because, be honest...before August 21 2011 how many of you had ever read your policy, much less understood it?

My contact agreed, and asked me to find out how much interest there would be if such a class was held.

So here I am.

If you would be interested in attending such a class, please leave a comment. The exact agenda of the class wouldn't be up to me, but you could certainly leave suggestions here as to what it is you would want covered. I definitely plan to be there myself, but will not be leading it. The leader is an expert in insurance. I am not.

Location, Date, Time, etc is all TBA...we just want to gauge the interest level first.

Please please please pas this along to ANYONE you think would be interested, and if you ARE interested, leave a comment saying so!

Thanks so much.

Monday's Motivated Moms: Hayley's Story

2011-10-03T07:56:00.000-04:00

To read more about this series, click here

Please note that all of the opinions written in the posts from this series are not mine and I do not necessarily share them, they are those of the author's. I am neutral party on each one, and am simply providing each author the opportunity to share their story.

I have never actually met Hayley. We speak on facebook on a regular basis and have a number of mutual friends, but I don't think we have ever spoken face to face. We have come to "know" eachother through mutal interests on facebook. She contacted me back in the summer about being profiled in this series. Hayley has been very supportive of me and this blog and has shared it with many of her friends and family. I am glad I can return the favour now by profiling her.

Before you go any further, I want to tell you that in the days following the tornado, Hayley published a book of aftermath photos from around the town of Goderich. You can buy it online here. All she receives as profit from this book is $7, and she is donating all profits made to the Tornado Relief Fund, which, when matched by the Province, will actually work out to $21 from each book sold. Please have a look, consider purchasing the book, read her story below, AND take note that she is even offering an incentive to families who quote this blog when booking photo sessions with her.

(Photo of Hayley taking shots after the tornado...courtesy of DLS photography.)

Thank you Hayley, for all you have done for me personally,as well as for our community.

The Story of Fresh Lens Photography

I always loved taking photos as a hobby. I didn't even get into digital until about 5 or 6 years ago, and I started with a fairly basic DSLR camera (Canon Rebel) and a couple of standard lenses. I had taken a photography course in highschool so I knew the basics of camera functions and light, but I still had a lot to learn! I would post my own pictures on facebook and people started liking what they saw. I had some requests from friends to do wedding photos, but I kept saying no. My own wedding photos had turned out terribly, and I didn't want the pressure of it! I assisted a couple of weddings and liked being there as kind of a fly on the wall, without the responsibility. I did some maternity and family shots for people, and played around with some low-end editing software.

In summer 2008 I said yes to my first wedding and agreed to accept a small payment. As I rattled off disclaimers to her, she assured me that she knew I wasn't a professional, and she just wanted to make sure she had some nice pictures of the day. She was the perfect bride for my first wedding! I wasn't nervous and she was great to work with. And to top it off, I was pleased with the photos and the way they turned out (though now of course I look back and critique them to no end)! She was happy and I was discovering something I really enjoyed. I did another wedding that fall, then took a break in the winter (because I was very pregnant!) and spring (to have my baby! I already had a 2 year old at the time). I did two more weddings that fall, and kept myself busy with family/maternity/baby photos too. I had no brand name yet, and my references still came by word of mouth at this point. But I was slowly acquiring more equipment so that I could offer people something better!

The following year I ended up doing more family sessions and five weddings, and taught myself how to use a professional editing program (Adobe Lightroom). At the end of the season I was able to make a major investment and buy myself a much-needed new camera. I was also relieved that now I would have my old one as a back-up camera at weddings (it is quite risky to shoot with only one)! I loved the work I was doing... the family pictures were fun to take, but there is something about an exciting event like a wedding or party that I just love capturing. My favourite part of the day is arriving when the bride and her girls are prepping, often at her parents' house, and just being a part of the emotion and anticipation of the wedding, even when it's for someone I don't know!

At this time I began to focus on getting my portfolio together, developing a company name and registering my business, putting together my facebook page and website/blog, and overall just making it a more polished and professional business. It was so satisfying to look back on my work and select my best images, and see how far I had come! I have learned a lot, and still am always learning new techniques and ways to serve my clients better.

This current year I again have 5 weddings (a good number for me, since I am quite busy as a mom of a 2- and a 4-year-old and I hold a part-time job as a marketing coordinator at a local inn), and I'm starting to book into next summer and fall. I also very much want to have the chance to photograph births. I had two "booked" for this past spring, but both babies' births were over 2 hours away and came VERY fast! There was no way I could have made it in time. Some of you may be thinking that birth is something you would never want photographed, but I have seen such tasteful, beautiful and powerful images from other birth photographers, and I just can't wait to have the opportunity to attend and capture those moments for a family. I have two more booked for this fall... cross your fingers for me that I make it to them!

What I feel I offer to my clients is detailed, candid-style images of events in their lives that are meaningful to them, at affordable prices. I also believe that every moment is worth photographing! The pictures I take tell a story. There is meaning in the way that hands touch, or the way that two people look at each other. I don't do studio work, and I try to limit the number of posed portraits that I take in any session. I want my work to reflect real life, in real settings! Often my clients' favourite images are the ones they didn't even know I took. I also use natural light whenever possible, and it is very important for me to make sure my clients are comfortable with me and what we're doing. One client who I worked with after her family had experienced a loss commented that I was "professional and sensitive, and I would recommend her to anyone."

All of these elements combine to give you a positive experience and a fresh, genuine product that will serve as a keepsake for years! Please take a look at my website, vimeo slideshow page, and facebook page (where you will find the most images from my portfolio) and contact me if you would like to book a session. If you found out about me from this blog, please mention it and receive $25 off for a family event, engagement, maternity or newborn session!

Hayley Morgan

hayley@freshlens.ca

http://www.freshlens.ca/

www.vimeo.com/freshlens (slideshows)

www.facebook.com/freshlensphoto

Want to see your story here? If you would like to be featured in the "Monday's Motivated Moms" series, leave a comment with your contact info here and I will get in touch with you!

Tornado in Goderich: Jeff's story

2011-10-02T15:02:00.002-04:00

To read earlier entires about the tornado, click here

This story is from the viewpoint of my husband.
Written by Melissa Wormington, as told to by Jeff Wormington.

It was just another Sunday...

Lots to get done, and never enough time to fit it all in.

My son Jack, age 3 wanted nothing more than to play with me - all day long. Whenever I am home, he insists on playing with Daddy. I have gotten used to trying to keep him busy while still getting things done myself.

I spent the morning cleaning, sorting and trying to keep the kids happy while my wife Melissa was busy doing one of the things she enjoys most - baking. "We really need to do some serious purging" I had told her. Finally lunch came and went and it was naptime for Jack. I love naptime. It means I can finally do what I want to do and all I wanted to do that day was clean and polish my pride and joy, my truck. 2003 Chevy Silverado, extended cab, chrome accessories...it was the exact truck I had wanted since I was a little boy and finally had. As soon as Jack was asleep and my daughter Makenna, age 6, was occupied, I snuck away for a couple hours to the firehall for "my time".

I returned just after 3 pm and was quite proud of how clean and shiny my truck was. I insisted Melissa come look at it. She smiled at it and asked "what should we have for supper?" as she walked back into the house. But I knew she liked it...sometimes it was a fight over who got to drive it.

I was thrilled when I found beef tenderloins in the freezer and made a plan to barbecue them for supper. This was going to be great - who can resist bacon wrapped beef tenderloins? I left them on the counter to thaw a bit and checked the weather radar on the computer. I remember noticing it was 3:35. The radar looked clear.

Perfect.

Jack was awake again and begging me to play - again. I was frustrated, but said that I would once I finished making the marinade for the beef. He had only one thing on his mind; he wanted me to play Wii with him. I told him we could play for about a half hour.

Just as I put his favourite game in and turned on the console, the power went out. Of course, Jack started to cry, like he always does when things don't go his way.

Makenna had been playing with playdoh in the living room and I heard her yell "Ummm Dad, you might want to come up and see this!" I figured she was scared and went upstairs to find her looking out the opened front door in amazement at the hail. It was huge! I yelled down to Melissa that she should come see it too. I heard the kitchen window break as it slammed shut. I tried to be calm as I told Makenna to go down to the basement to see what her mom and brother were doing. On my way by I closed the front door but it flew back open. I turned and it was all I could do to close it again, locking it this time. As I followed Makenna into the basement where Melissa and Jack still were, I heard that "freight train" sound everyone talks about. As my foot hit the first step down into the basement I heard a crash and turned to see the front door I had just closed and locked, fly past me towards our backroom - 20 feet from where it was supposed to be. As I flew down the stairs our cat jumped clear over my shoulder and dove into the basement with us. I grabbed Makenna and huddled there in the basement with my family, the pressure in my ears unbearable. Having no idea what was happening, I tried to remain strong and calm for my family...an almost impossible task.

The next thing I remember is my pager going off and Melissa saying "You have got to be kidding me". I made sure my wife and kids were okay, fearing thats something very bad had just happened outside. As I ran out of the basement I told them I had to go and would be back soon, even though I was pretty sure I was going to be gone a long time.

There were leaves and branches in our front hallway.I could see daylight streaming into our house from all the wrong places. I have no idea why, but I picked up that front door and took it outside with me. When I stepped onto our front porch, and noticed the majority of it was gone, saw the trees in the street and the rain still pouring down...that's when I knew.

Tornado.

My pager was still toning - no one had made it to the hall yet, which wasn't a good sign. I turned towards my truck and froze. It was was destroyed. I knew it instantly. There was a tree on top of it.

With the tones continuing to go off and silence on the other end, I wondered if I was the only fireman in this town alive. Someone should have been there by now. Someone should have been announcing what we were dealing with by now. I ran over to the home of our neighbours, Jim and Joyce Spence and checked in with them. Once I knew they were okay I ran to the home of our other neighbours, Rick and Christa McCullough. I found Rick bleeding with a shard of glass from his patio door in his leg. Once he assured me he was okay I ran back into the middle of the street, looking for a way out to get to the firehall. Our neighbour from across the road, Steve Walters, told me to take his car. As quickly as I could I backed his car out of his driveway, between the fallen branches and debris and reached the 5 points in time to see our first truck responding to the area. I was close enough to see the look in the eyes of the firemen in the front seat as they saw what I had been dealing with. Up until this moment they just thought they were responding to an auto alarm at Victoria Street United Church - that's what the call came in as. While sitting in Steve's car right infront of them, where they didn't recognize me, I heard one of them say over the radio, in disbelief, "Oh my God, Wormy's house is destroyed". (Wormy is my nickname).

The time between seeing and hearing that, and my reaching the firehall in Steve's car is blurry to me. I was in tears as I ran into the hall and fell to my knees in shock. I grabbed the first firefighter I saw and bear hugged him.

Days later, I found out this man is not a hugger, and having no idea why I was reacting in such a way, was very uncomfortable. When I apologized, he shook his said and responded "That's what Brothers are for.

One of the firefighter wives was already at the hall. She ran over and asked me why I was there and not at home with Melissa and the kids. She said she was taking me back to my family and that I was no good at the hall in the state I was in. I told her that wasn't necessary, jumped back into Steve's car and returned to Park Street myself.

I checked in with Melissa, who had already taken our kids to Jim and Joyce's basement. She was trying to get ahold of her mother who lived an hour away. I didn't know what to do or where to be. Being a Captain on the Department I felt a duty to be with the firefighters and help the town but I also felt the need to see my children with my own eyes to know they were okay and to assure them I was okay. The last time they had seen me was in the basement as our house was being blown apart above us.

I ducked my head into Jim and Joyce's basement to assure Makenna and Jack that I was just fine, Mommy was fine, and everything outside was being taken of just fine. Back outside, I looked at Melissa and told her I needed to go - that I didn't know what I was supposed to do but that I had to do something. Still trying to reach her mom, she nodded and I left.

I was told by the commanding officer to get a radio and clear the people off the street so that EMS vehicles could drive through. As I looked down the street I knew people were the least of our concerns. How were we supposed to move trees, steel beams and hydro poles? I spoke with the people wandering around on the streets, watching for signs of shock as I reminded them to stay away from the buildings that were threatening to fall down into the street at any moment. A woman approached me in tears, upset that she couldn't reach her 90 year old mother. I escorted her to the house where we found her safe with other firefighters and OPP officers. As I returned back toward Park Street I met 2 of my fellow firefighters and apologized to them for being unable to respond sooner. They looked at me incredulously, looked toward my house and told me to go and take care of it and my family. I replied that my house was destroyed and there was nothing I could do there.

One of the guys brought my full bunker gear from the hall to me and once I had it on I finally felt like I could do my job properly. I took my workboots off to find the heels of my bare feet blistered and covered in blood. Once properly dressed I was told to evacuate Park and St David Streets. Melissa's brother and some other Brussels firemen had arrived by this time and were ready to help, looking to me for direction. I gathered my crew and we began notifiying my neighbours and good friends that they had to abandon their homes. That was very difficult for me, and I encountered plenty of resistance, but I knew I had no choice - it needed to be done.

While searching homes, evacuating their occupants and climbing over and through trees to assess the state of various buildings on Park Street, I was repeatedly approached by members of the media.

Reporters wanted to know just exactky what it was that had happened here.
How much of the town was destroyed?
How many fatalities?
What is the role of the fire department right now?

I won't tell you how I responded. What I will say is that the editors of The London Free Press did a very good job when they quoted me in Monday morning's paper as saying "The main emphasis is on crowd control. The fire department is concerned because there has been a number of gas line breaks."

Later, when I was stationed at the corner of St David and Cambria Streets I was surprised to see Melissa's mother, of all people, running towards me. I had no idea what she was doing in Goderich or how she even got in. She hugged me, asked if I was okay and wanted to know where Melissa and the kids were. I still didn't really understand what she was doing in town and told her that although I was glad to see her I had work to do. I told her there was no way she was going anywhere near my house on the next street. She then explained that she had been talking to Melissa and was here to pick up our kids. I looked at her and told her I had no idea where they were.

Fate intervened. We turned at the noise of someone yelling to see my wife, Lynn Depatie and my two kids running towards us. I could not believe Melissa had retrieved the carseats out of the destroyed vehicles and had been carrying them with her this whole time. There was my little girl dragging her Barbie suitcase behind her...it it was dirty and ripped in spots. As they discussed their plan to take the kids out of town, I told Melissa she needed to go with them and get out of town to a safer place. She flat out refused and told me she would see me in a little while.

I had to get back to work so I quickly hugged Makenna and Jack and told them I loved them and everything was fine. I looked at Melissa and confessed that I didn't know when I would see her again, I loved her and would try to talk to her soon. We said goodbye and I hurried off down St David Street.

I remember that Sunday evening, walking on patrol down Park Streetin the dark with Melissa's brother and 2 other firemen, 2 of us from Goderich, 2 from Brussels. The street had long since been evacuated and the four of us quietly walked in a row down the street, our eyes taking in what was left of my neighbourhood. I remember saying that I felt like I should be carrying a machine gun, not a flashlight, because it truly felt like we were in a war zone.

I stared at what was left of the house Melissa and I had built into a home. This morning it was just another Sunday. Now I didn't know where I was going to sleep that night, or if I would even sleep at all. I realized at that moment that what had taken place here in 12 seconds was going to take months to get back.

The hours turned into days and The Fire Department continued to be very busy. We were exhausted but kept pushing, doing what we were trained to do. While I was working for the town, Melissa worked at putting our life back together. Although it was my life too, as her husband and Makenna and Jack's father, I couldn't help her. My duties to the fire department had to come first. I couldn't be with my own family, because I was with my fire family. I spent the better part of the week with over 50 "brothers", only one of which I was actually related to, but all of them are like family. We looked after eachother, took care of eachother, and understood eachother. I struggled with a lot of guilt around being a Captain and not being there to help Melissa, but it was comforting to know that my Brothers and their wives on the Goderich Fire Department were trying to help by doing what they could, checking in with her, bringing food to her, helping her however they could, whenever they could.

Volunteer firefighters are just regular people. We have spouses, children, jobs and personal lives just like everyone else. But when that pager goes off, it is our job to leave our spouses, children, jobs and personal lives behind, no questions asked.

My house was destroyed. My vehicles were ruined. I had to leave my wife and children behind in order to help protect and support our town. Because that's what we do.

While I looked after your town and your families, my Fire family, and friends who became like family took care of my mine. Because that's what families do.

It was just another Sunday. All my 3 year old son wanted was for me to play with him. When I was finally ready to play, the next 12 seconds changed everything. When those 12 seconds ended, I didn't see my son or daughter again for 6 days. My job as a volunteer firefighter took me away from my children during the scariest moments of their young lives. I dropped everything for this town.
Now, when my son asks me to play, I drop everything for him. Don't assume that there is always tomorrow to make up for lost time. Tomorrow never came to my house.

At the end of that day, Family was all I had left.

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Tornado in Goderich: Trauma.

2011-09-26T11:20:00.002-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

A few days after the tornado, people in the know started referring to it as a "traumatic event".

This was a "trauma" people were dealing with.

Trauma is defined as: 1. A deeply distressing or disturbing experience
                                 2.Emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be                                          associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis
                                 3.Physical injury
                                          ~Merriam Webster

I have never really experienced trauma in my life. I have experienced heartbreak, hardship, the deaths of loved ones, both expected and unexpected. I have been in shock before, but the same kind of shock most other people experience when hearing something unexpected or receiving bad news...the type of situations that you respond to by saying "Wow, I'm shocked"..."this is shocking...I'm speechless" ....but I had never lived through something "traumatic".

At my office we have lots of paperwork and reading material on trauma, surviving it and the effect it has on families. Some of it was centred around the events of September 11 2001. I had read it when I came across it, and have attended workshops in the past about the effects of trauma on families...most of those relating to the effects of witnessing or experiencing domestic or child abuse. But none of it really stuck with me over the years.

Until now.
Now I get it.

I attended a debriefing a couple weeks ago. I was there in a professional capacity but knew it would affect me on a personal level.

It wasn't long before I was fidgeting. I could feel the tears coming and was rooting through my purse for kleenex. I knew the eyes of some key people in the room were on me and I refused to meet them. The speaker spoke of the long term effects that were likely to affect families as a result of the tornado. Things for us, as professionals, to be watching and preparing for. Increased incidents of domestic abuse. Increased cases of family breakdown. Increased mental health issues. I swallowed hard, very aware that the "families" he was referring to could include mine. My family was at risk for all of these things. We were directly affected and as a result were viewed by professionals as those at an increased risk for all of these things.

Then he said something about how 3 months from now families would still be dealing with this, and with issues they didn't even know they had yet. That for the people affected this wasn't going to end anytime soon...the effects would be lifelong and their issues, problems and risk factors would change and continue for a very long time.

My vision was blurry by this point, I was trying so hard to maintain my composure in this professional capacity. I knew I shouldn't, but I looked back at the other professional in the room who was in the same position personally as I was. Our eyes connected and mine spilled over. I abruptly stood up and rushed out of the room, followed by the other professional and a colleague who I am very close to.

3 months from now? I couldn't bare the thought of still dealing with this 3 months from now...I wasn't even thinking about tomorrow right now. Honestly. I was managing by dealing with this literally one day at a time. I couldn't possibly even begin to think about what would be happening 3 months from now. Couldn't consider the possibility that this would still be affecting us.

A quote from one of the "Critical Incident Stress Information" sheets we receievd at that debriefing:

"The signs and symptoms of a stress reaction may last a few days, a few weeks, a few months, or longer, depending on the severity of the traumatic event. The understanding and the support of loved ones usually cause the stress reactions to pass more quickly. Occasionally the traumatic event is so painful that professional assistance may be necessary. This does not imply craziness or weakness. It simply indicates that the particular event was just too powerful for the person to manage by himself".

The speaker also spoke of viewing ourselves as "a house with 4 rooms"; A physical room, an emotional room, a social room, and a spiritual room. Unless you visit each room you will not be whole.

Ask yourself: How are you coping physically with the trauma? your relationship with your body?

In my case, what I notice is around my diet. I am an emotional eater, I have blogged about that in the past. Emotions have ran pretty high lately. In the early days I was not eating regularly, certainly not well. For the first few days while we were without hydro and relying on food from the KOC, YMCA and firehall, we ate sporadically. I had headaches on a daily basis because I wasn't eating in the way my body was accustomed to. The tornado hit on a Sunday at 4pm. I had eaten lunch that day (I have no idea what) and then didn't eat again until at least 8 or 9pm that night at KOC. Even then I didn't eat much due to the shock I was in. That night at Darren's, our first night there, I woke up at about 4am with a massive headache...strong enough it made me nauseous. I rooted through the cupboards in Darren's house looking for Advil (found it), came across a bag of cheerios and laid on the couch in the basemen alternating between nibbling on them and sipping water, willing myself not to be sick in someone else's house the night after a tornado ruined mine. I kept thinking that there was no way I could deal with everything I needed to if I was sick.
Every time I was in the firehall over the next few days I nibbled on something, as there was always plenty of food there. People brought lots of food to our house too, the problem was I didn't feel I could eat much at any given time. My body just wasn't interested.

How are you coping emotionally with the trauma? Your relationship with your feelings?

Well.

I have went into some detail about this already in earlier posts. In the first few days I was busy with what needed to be done at the moment. I was surrounded by people and so busy I didn't have time to think. Only when I was alone did my feelings overcome me. And as the days went on, I was alone more often and my feelings overwhelmed me more often. The evening at my Grandma's on the Wednesday during the bad weather says it all. I was not in control of my feelings whatsoever. Since that time, there have been many other instances where I have not be in control of my feelings. In the Director's office at Jack's daycare. Talking to his teacher. Speaking with Makenna's Vice Principal. In my office at work. At home. In the Doctor's office. In the bank. Driving down my street. It's not all the time, and it's not always that bad. It comes in waves and I feel as though I don't have much control over it.
Additionally, I have very limited patience. This has always been an issue for me and right now its magnified. Sometimes when I am having a rough moment or a rough day I am very short with people. Friends. Family. My children. Excessively overbearing or snappy with them. I know this as it is happening and yet I can't stop myself. I apologize and I feel guilty. The week after the tornado I found myself to be really affected by noise and chaos. For 3 days I was surrounded by noise and chaos. Sirens, car alarms, people yellling, chainsaws, generators, big trucks, back up sensors on large vehicles...I was on sensory overload. I craved silence and when I was somewhere that there was a lot going on in a small area, lots of people, lots of noise, lots of confusion...I couldn't take it. It really bothered me and all I wanted to do was escape.

Different people have asked me if I am angry...and I have to say I'm really not. There have been specific things during this process that have made me angry. Dealing with car insurance. Disconnecting and reconnecting services. Insensitive People. I'm not angry this has happened overall, I think I'm still more in disbelief right now. I think maybe if we had lost all of our belongings or if someone from our family had of been hurt, maybe then I'd be angry...but I can honestly say that is not one of the feelings I am struggling with right now. I would say the chief feeling I struggle with is anxiety. That feeling in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. Makes your heart pound and the butterflies flutter. You feel the need to constantly be taking deep breaths. Sometimes I know why its there, sometimes I can't explain it. Where tears threaten for no real reason. All you want is to be alone, but then when you are alone it doesn't make it better...in fact sometimes it makes it worse because then there are no distractions and you have no choice but to be fully aware of this feeling.
But I think its good to be alone and have to fully face these feelings. Difficult, yes, but necessary. The blogging really does help with it.

How are you coping socially with the trauma? How is your relationships with your family and others?

I think Jeff and I have handled this pretty well as husband and wife. I was never angry that he wasn't around for the first few days to handle things at home...frustrated, yes, but not angry. And because I had to handle things without him, we didn't argue about what, how or when things needed to be done. When I did talk to him I told him where we were at, and he had to let me, and others, handle things. I think that was a good thing for us. We were both so focused on what needed to be done in our own worlds that we didn't second guess or argue eachother's decisions. We also both gained enormous perspective that most things weren't worth arguing about that week. We were on the same page when it came to most things and felt like after what we had just went through, a lot of other day to day annoyances didn't matter. He had to trust me with huge life changing decsions,a nd for the most part, I proved myself. As for my relationship with my kids...right now I have to parent in two completely different ways when it comes to the afteraffects of this tornado. Makenna just wants everything to be as normal as possible. Now that we are living on the other side of town where nothing was touched, its very easy for her to do that. She comes and goes from school, does her homework and plays like she always did. She is enjoying her dance class and swimming lessons. She requests that we not drive by our old house if she is in the vehicle, and if we have to, she doesn't look. She doesn't want to talk about it, or write about it, or draw pictures about it. She is excited to look at blueprints and plan her new bedroom, but doesn't want to think about why she is getting one in the first place.

Jack on the other hand, the first couple weeks told every one he came into contact with that his house and Daddy's truck were broken. He asks to drive by our house on a daily basis. He has plenty of questions. He asks when we will be going back to our house and why we can't live there right now. He is always talking about it.

He has become quite clingy to Jeff and I, moreso I. He always was though, so I'm not sure if what he is going through right now is because he was separated from us for 6 days right after the tornado, or if he would have been like this anyway. In addition to being in a new home, he is also in a new daycare and has begun swimming lessons. Both the new daycare and swimming lessons were scheduled a long time ago to begin in September and while he enjoys both, the initial transition from parent to activity is painful. He has cried every day that I have dropped him off at daycare for the last 2 weeks. He has cried at both of his Saturday morning swimming lessons. And while I know he is fine and has fun once I am out of sight, what I get is the crying and sobbing and begging every single morning...and that wears a person down when it happens every single day and that's all they see. I feel guilty. He has cried so much lately I feel terrible. All I want to do is keep him home with me for as long as it takes for him to become confident again. But I know that's not the answer. All I would be doing is encouraging him to regress. While I think he may have been like this to a degree even if there hadn't been a tornado, I know it wouldn't have affected me to the degree that it has. The Mommy guilt...its always a part of parenting and right now its everywhere I look.

As for my relationship with others...I feel like not many people understand. Some do seem to understand me and how best to interact with me, but if they don't they admit that they don't and just want to be there to listen. And that's all I want, when I reach out. - is someone to listen....to let me vent. I don't want anyone to try to "fix" it, or tell me how or what I should feel or do. No one can tell me how or what I should feel. No one should even try. Just listen and let me feel what I feel. Maybe I shouldn't feel what I do in some cases, maybe I will be overreacting, but what I feel is what I feel and I need to be allowed to feel what I feel without being told I shouldn't,or downplaying it, or being told I need to get over it. Most people I am surrounded by get that and are very supportive. Those that don't get that or aren't supportive...I just can't be around right now. Some people seem afraid to bring it up, to ask questions. I don't mind discussing all that has happened. Lets remember, I am blogging it for anyone and everyone to read, I'm comfortable discussing it. It doesn't need to be the white elephant in the room that I'm in. I have had complete strangers approach me in public venues to discuss this blog with me. And I appreciate that. I am always curious as to who they are and how they got to reading it, and the things these people say to me is very encouraging. Thank you to those of you who have had the courage to do that. I really do believe this is therapeutic for me, and I truly value everyone's encouragement and support. That's really all I need from anyone. Encouragement and Support.

How are you coping spiritually with the trauma? Your relationship with nature, the world, and God?

Those are 3 completely different things. As I have opinionated in my blog before, spirituality can mean many things to different people...there is no one right way to be a spiritual person.

The house that we are in now has a nice sized maple tree outside its living room window. Sitting on the couch in that room last week I looked out at it and thought "If the tornado had have come down this street, that tree could have come right through that window into the living room". A few days after the tornado hit, Jeff and I drove down to the beach so he could show me the damage at the Salt Mine. It was a beautiful day and there were families enjoying the beach and playing in the water. I had a hard time with that as that's where the tornado originated from just a few days ago - those very waters. My head knew that it was long over and people get on with life and there was nothing wrong with the water. But my heart said there was no way people should be in it. Once our kids were back in town the second week, they were with me one day as I was running errands and we ended up driving down by the beach. It was before lunch and no one was on the sand or in the water. The kids begged to get out and play so we did.

They played in the sand and splashed in the water like they had so many times previously over the years as I sat in the sand at the edge of the water and watched quietly, not saying anything. I grew up visiting this beach too. I had travelled here with my family as a child every summer. This beach was apart of Jack and Makenna's life, and mine too. Tim proposed to Nicole here. I loved this beach. We watched fireworks here every year and spent countless hours in the water each summer. This was one of the main reasons we loved Goderich and knew the kids would love growing up here. But after all that had happened, on that day I had a hard time allowing them in the water even though it was smooth and calm. It was the first time since returning home that they had done something normal, something that we used to do. And by allowing them to play in the water I felt as though I was saying to it "I forgive you...I am allowing my children to be here and play in the water where this all began...where you helped develop an F3 tornado that scared them and took away their home... because I want to forgive you and want to trust you again". That was hard for me and I knew the power of the moment as it was happening.

I snapped a picture of them on the sand with the Salt Mine in the backround like I had done so many times in the past...only this time the backround was the reason for the picture.

It wasn't long before the rest of the county and the news stations went on with their normal lives...talking about other things, reporting on other stories. I wanted to say "Hey, wait! We're still here!"
How can people be happy, be focused on other things, be all wrapped up in other such trivial details, while we are still dealing with this? Our lives were still on hold, but everyone else was moving on. Its the same feeling you have when a loved one dies and you watch the world carry on without you.

And my relationship with God. You will remember, and many of you have commented on the irony of that now infamous blog post of mine questioning God and the reasons behind why things happen the way they do in life. The post I innocently wrote before the tornado ever happened. The day after I wrote that, a good friend messaged me telling me how she had struggled with the same feelings. She said she reframed her thinking and prayers with the approach of   "God, I know you have a plan. I don't know what your plan is but I am trusting you. You know the plan and I will trust in that and accept your plan". It was an interesting approach for me and I thought a lot about in the following week.

And then a tornado made my home that I had lived in for the past 6 years with my husband and 2 children structurally unsound and wrote off both of our vehicles.

And I thought...Okay... So this was the plan?
Again, I have to ask why. Why is this the plan for us?

I was told "God never gives you anything you can't handle".
I would like to point out I was told this by people who had not just lost their home to a tornado.

And now, over a month later...I still wonder why.
But things have happened that wouldn't have otherwise. Good things. In my family, with my friendships, with this writing, in this town. I have to accept that this is our life now, we have to carry on day in and day out and accept all of this as our "new normal". Nothing is going to change the reality of the situation. Maybe this was the plan all along. This tornado is going to be a landmark moment in all 4 of our lives. We will look at things as "pre tornado" and "post tornado". Our kids will grow up into adulthood with the story of how they lost their home to a tornado at ages 6 and 3. That day is a part of their stories now.

But still I wonder why. I want to accept that is a part of some master plan that I just have to trust, but still I question the reasons behind why its a part of our plan...what will come from this and how it will shape our future.

I get it now.

Trauma affects every part of your life. Its effects on you are visible to others on the outside, and it gets inside you and works on you from in there too. It doesn't go away when decisions and progress are made and routines are established. It changes who you are and the way you look at and interact with the world.

When I think about the anxiety and how I need to feel it, to allow it in and wait for the wave to pass, when I think of the people who try to put it into perspective for me, downplay it or encourage me to keep busy, not think about it or move on, when I think about that day with my children at the beach where I allowed them back into the water even though I felt fear and dread because it was that very water that the tornado formed on...I look at the quote I received from the debriefing session:

"We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the fullest". ~Marcel Proust.

I get it now.

Don't want to miss a post? There's a facebook page! Like "The Story of Us - Personal Blog" on facebook, to get updates right to your news feed as they are posted.

Become a fan on facebook!

2011-09-22T18:45:00.003-04:00

I have decded to create a stand alone facebook page for this blog, so that anyone who has access to facebook and "likes" the page, will be notified of blog posts as they are posted, without having to rely on others posting it on their facebook walls. If you would like to keep up to date, please "like" the page "The Story of Us:Personal Blog" on facebook. This means that eventually I will stop posting links to it on my personal facebook page, when you all are "fans" of the stand alone page.

There are some interesting things in the works as a result of this blog and its tornado series, which, by the way, is far from over. Please become a fan of the facebook page if you would like to keep following along.

Thanks :)

Goderich Tornado: My interview with radio4all.net and London Free Press

2011-09-21T11:03:00.000-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

There was a comment left on one of the first tornado blog posts I did offering me the opportunity to audio record my story. I contacted Maggie, who interviews the people behind news stories and posts them on the internet radio site "radio4all" so they can be accessed by anyone at anytime, free of charge. Based out of Hamilton, she had already interviewed Tom Jasper from the ODRAP/ Goderich Tornado Disaster Relief Fund, Mary from St Vincent de Paul, and Kelly from the Goderich Grill. I agreed to do an interview with her, although I must say, I was quite nervous about it.

Thankfully it was taped, not live, so she could edit parts of it.

The interview is just over 30 mins long. If you would like to hear it, click here and scroll down to download "Melissa's story".

If you get to the radio4all.net homepage, just type "Goderich" into the search bar.

Yesterday various residents of Goderich, including myself, spoke with a reporter from London Free Press. You can view that article here. Be sure to watch the video too.

Yesterday I received a message from a woman I had just recently met, who understands completely what its like to be in my shoes. She said "We don't work through these types of events, we learn to incorporate them into our lives in ways that help us make sense of what has happened so that we can move on".

Tornado in Goderich: Reality Check.

2011-09-20T14:41:00.000-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

So.
Last night we met with our contractor, who brought up house plans for us to review and approve. The new layout of our house sees the kitchen in the back (where the old craft/toyroom was for those that are familiar with my house) with a dining area and living room infront of it. We will have a broom closet and a coat closet on the main floor, along with a small 2 piece bathroom just off the kitchen. The stairs will be at the back of the house, off the kitchen as well and the back door of our house will connect the kitchen with a little breezeway type thing for our barbeque and maybe a small patio table. The garage will be pushed back to be square with the back of our house, which will allow us to park both vehicles in the driveway without blocking the sidewalk.
The upstairs layout sees both kids rooms looking out on to main street, a bathroom beside one kid's room, and our room on the other side. Each kid has a closet in their room (something they have never had before) and our bedroom has a huge walk in closet. I have never had a closet in my bedroom in my life, until I moved into this rental home...certainly not a walk in closet. This may be my most favourite part.
The basement has a laundry room with bathroom facilities, a mechanical room and then lots of wide open space to finish into a rec room/toy room.

We reviewed and approved the plans last night after making a few minor adjustments and I was feeling the tiniest twinge of excitement.

And yet, I don't feel I should be excited. This is not exciting. This is not something that is fun. In any other circumstance, yes, planning your new home is exciting and fun and you should look forward to that.
But when I take the time to remember why we are doing all of this in the first place, I remember that we are doing all of this because we have to. Because a tornado made our house "structurally unsafe". We are doing all of this because we have no other choice. I feel like I can't get excited about this, I can't think of this as fun...it will minimize or trivialize why we have to do it in the first place.

So yeah...I'm not over it.

My evenings at home are spent just like those of most other parents. Ensuring homework gets done, practicing spelling words, preparing dinner, emptying and refilling the dishwasher and laundry baskets, refereeing (always, always refereeing), making lunches, choosing clothes for the next day, and reading bedtime stories.

As I drove my 3.5 year old son to daycare this morning, he asked me if the "storm" came because he was "bad". To him it was an innocent question that he just wanted an answer to. He wasn't crying when he asked it, he was naturally curious. He also asked where the storm's family lived and what time it went to sleep at night.
Yes, Social Worker friends, analyze away...

When I arrived at work and sat down in my office, alone, with a full docket of tasks to complete...I just couldn't.  Here I was, alone in the quiet which I love, with hours worth of work to do at my own pace, and I couldn't focus. A coworker came in to confirm something I had asked her to do and when I went to answer her, I could only nod my head because the lump in my throat was so big I couldn't speak.

I work in a helping profession. That's what we do in our office, we try to help people, so of course, she tried to help me.
Once they started, the tears didn't stop for 2 hours. I ended up in 3 different offices, crying my way from one to the next.

I think what happened is that I was finally alone with my thoughts, with no one else demanding my time or attention and once I was able to focus on myself, my "self" told me loud and clear that I was not ready to be at work. I couldn't focus on putting together a newsletter, a craft for next week, a circle time for next week. I couldn't focus on tidying up the office or doing inventory. I couldn't focus on what needed to get done...I didn't even want to.

So I'm at home. Jack is still at daycare, and I am at home. Alone, with my thoughts.
I am okay. I will be okay. But I need some time to process through my thoughts, feelings and emotions.  I cannot turn them off when I am at work.

I was off work for 3 weeks following the tornado, but in those 3 weeks I barely had time to sit down. I dealt with insurance adjusters and claims for both vehicles and the house, I packed up one house, moved into another and unpacked it, I cancelled all services to one house and hooked them all back up to the other, I worked at replacing 2 vehicles and all of the licencing and insurance that goes along with that. I met with 3 contractors, reviewed their plans, chose one and met with him again.  I had my daughter's birthday to plan and deliver, we prepared for the first day of school and I transitioned my son into a new daycare.   We had a family wedding and yes, I have a husband but my husband had a large number of obligations that left him unavailable to me throughout at least half of that.

Those 3 weeks off were, by no means, holidays.

I returned to work last week, feeling as though things had settled down enough here that I could focus on my work...but it took me all of about 2 days to realize I couldn't. My head and my heart just aren't there right now, and in the job that I have they absolutely need to be.

Society expects you to just pick up where you left off and return to the life and priorities you had.
I can't do that right now.
Thank God, my employers understand completely and were not at all surprised. A few of the key people have been through some pretty heavy situations in their own lives and understand well that this is a process, not an event.

I cannot give all that I have to both my personal life and my professional life right now. That doesn't make me weak, or make me dramatic or make me lazy.

It makes me human.

If someone doesn't understand that, or thinks I am overreacting, or thinks they would react differently, they are welcome to my shoes for a few weeks...although I think it would take only a few days.

You know, the shoes that aren't ruined by broken glass, insulation and fibreglass.

Just because everything appears to be back to normal, doesn't mean it is.  People may wonder why I am blogging this, writing it all down, putting it out there for everyone to read, discuss, maybe even criticize.
I am doing it for me, because it is therapeutic and helps me gain perspective, I am doing it so that I have it years from now because I know I will want it and my kids will be interested in it, and I do it for you.

Because I think it's important for you to understand. Especially those of you that don't live here. And by here, I mean St Patrick St, Picton St, Arthur St, St David Street, Oxford St, Park St, or on or surrounding the Square, in Goderich (I'm sorry if I missed any areas). You've seen the pictures, read the papers, watched the videos. The "shock value" has wore off. Unaffected people say that have a hard time watching it on the news, hearing the stories, even reading this blog. It's too hard for them.

But there are still people dealing with it. These are people's lives.

Every.Single.Day.

My intention here isn't to make you cry. Isn't to have you private message me or call me or discuss my wellbeing with others. To look at me with pity in your eyes or ask what you can do. My intention is to have you understand and to really think about what this would be like if this were your life.

Before anything else, before I am an employee, a helper, a friend, anything...I am just me. I am a 31 year old wife of 8 years, mother of 2, country girl who is working through something not many people I know (outside of this town) have. Actually, even half the people in this town have no idea what some of us are going through. And if I want to remain that person, I need to take care of that person.

Tonight I will take my daughter to her extracurricular activity, have dinner, prepare clothes and lunch for the next day and read bedtime stories, just like every other night. Tomorrow morning I will get up, get dressed, prepare breakfasts, take my son to daycare and my daughter will go to school, just like every other day.
But I am not going to work tomorrow. I need time to myself. To do with it whatever I wish, as long as it is on my terms.

This...this is the real work that takes place after the tornado.  Stuff that isn't cleaned up by a chainshaw, isn't healed with a hammer. Fundraising dollars don't touch this, and all the insurance you have doesn't matter.

There is no Building Permit for rebuilding yourself.

What you need can't have a deadline, can't follow the expectations of others and can't be faked.

What you need, is Time.

Thank you to all of you who have felt compelled to share this story by posting it on your own facebook page or emailing it to others. Thank you to those who have been moved enough to leave a comment on here and on my facebook links to this blog. I am encouraged by them every day. If you would like to leave a comment, I would love for you to leave it here on the blog, not on facebook, as those are lost to me after about a week. Thank you.

Tornado in Goderich...the final chapter...for now ;)

2011-09-16T20:14:00.001-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

People have been commending me on my strength. My courage. My bravery in writing these posts.

I am not strong, nor courageous, nor brave.

I have no idea what I am doing. I am learning as I go...walking in the dark.

I did not do this, I did not pick up the pieces and try to move on, alone. People picked me up and carried me. They told me what I needed and how they were going to make it happen. They provided me with the basics that I couldn't provide myself. without asking, they knew what I needed, and how I would want things done. I couldn't do it, but they could, and they did.

I had help. A lot of help.

The reason I am still standing, still fighting, still here, is because other people picked me up, held me up and reminded me of who I was, when I didn't want to face it anymore, or didn't know how.

This post is to say thank you.

To my home community of Howick Township and the town of Gorrie for wrapping your arms around my children while they were with my mom and grandma, buying them clothes and gifts, buying food for my grandma's house even though her fridge, freezers and cupboards are always completely stocked for any type of emergency, for taking them to the pool, the library, for walks and just allowing them to sit on your knees...and also for supporting us with your many donations of everything from money to hair care products...I thank you. Howick has always been my home and the community is a tight one. Thank you for wanting to look after one of your own.

To Amy, my friend since almost the beginning of time, for feeling moved to immediately organize a donation drive in Howick Township over facebook, the very first card we received...I will never forget what you did. You are always a part of my heart.

To the Wingham Columbus Centre Thursday Afternoon Volunteer Program - a program I had never heard of run by staff I had never met, for hearing our story and feeling compelled to act. we were left overwhelmed and speechless. Thank you to Ty, Courtney and Janine for the role you each played in that.

To Baseball Ontario for hearing of Makenna's story and sending her a care package, we are touched. And to Paul and Annette, who made that happen, you are very special people. Thank you.

To people I have met professionally, when I was the helper helping you...the one who delivered food, food and more food to the Goderich Firehall when they needed it most, driving through stormy weather to do so...to the one who donated a dryer to us when you found out we needed one, to the ones who have sent cards, emails, messages and more offering your thoughts, prayers and support...I am touched. I am proud to know you. Thank you.

To The Lambton County Quilters Guild, who provided beautiful patchwork quilts to my children, thank you for caring. They love them.

To my "Sunbeams" spread throughout Eastern Canada, The United States and The United Kingdom who have proven geography is no boundry...I have no words. Thank you.

To the members of the Brussels Fire Department who showed up Sunday to help Jeff and returned Monday and Tuesday to help my family...each of you are the very definition of what a "volunteer" is. This is not your community and we had never even met 2 of you before, but you were as committed and dedicated as anyone else in our town. We are honoured to know all 4 of you. Thank you.

To Lynn, for staying with me and my kids on that Sunday afternoon when it became clear I couldn't do it alone. For helping me look after my kids, and for getting them to a safe place, for stopping when you could have just kept walking and not leaving until everyone was taken care of....Thank God you came along that day.

To Kris, for coming with Mike on the Tuesday, being of few words but much action, thank you for wanting to be there. For everything you did, even though I was so out of it I really don't know what anyone did.

To the Renons, the Bakkers, the Zondags, and I don't even know who all else, for lending us totes and finding us boxes...thank you for helping to make that part easier. The totes are all labelled and I promise to return them someday.

To Deb, Shelley, John, Caroline and the entire staff of Goderich Public School, for caring, going above and beyond, for your thoughtfulness and your discretion...we are so very blessed to be a part of such a supportive school community.

To Donna and Gilles, Corey and Glen, Liz, Paul and Marilyn, Brain and Tabatha and Brenda - for the gifts for our family and our children...thank you so very much for the kindness you have shown.

To Larry and Janice for doing our laundry, taking our kids to the park, having us over for dinner, and for the hugs...you are such amazing people and we are so blessed to have you in our lives. and to Jon and Aaron for just showing up and going to work on the physical stuff when Jeff wasn't around...such good boys from such a great family.

To Ang and Rob and Bummer and Tammy for bringing food when we were packing up the house on Park St, for showing up to help us unpack and dealing with all my bakeware, for doing our laundry, for raising such amazing kids, for checking in in the days that followed and for just "getting it"...I am so glad I know you and your families...thank you for friendship and your support.

To Ian, Kyle, Ryan, Jay, Aaron and all of the other firemen, and your families - for all you have done to help and support us, thank you.

To Wendy, for showing up, walking in and setting right to work on that Tuesday, and to you and Keith both for volunteering to look after our cat until we could look after him again ourselves. Thank you for cleaning him up, feeding him and loving him. We appreciated not having to worry about that.

To Steve and Laurie, everything you have done for us has been so appreciated. Thank you for everything, we love you both.

To Dorothy, for the insurance expertise, encouragement and support. For lunch for all 4 of us. For constantly checking in on me and being there. For understanding and supporting my time away form work. For "getting it". Thank you.

To Laura and Mark for the care package, the cake, the dinner, and for taking my kids off my hands...we are so glad to have friends like you who just know, at exactly the right moment, what I need and what to do. Thank you.

To the Smoyc families for your support, camraderie and expertise in various areas, thank you for being there, always ready, whatever we need.

To all of our friends, from near and far, Goderich and beyond, for all of the calls, messages, emails, visits and more to check in and offer support, thoughts, prayers and encouragement...thank you to those not from Goderich for being here in spirit, for keeping us in your thoughts, for being such great people. Thank you to those who are from here for pretending you didn't notice my red rimmed eyes or shaky voice. For being there to catch me when I fell. For assuring me that this too, would pass. We have read everything from everyone and are overwhelmed at everyone's care and concern.

To Jen, for all the food you brought to Park St, for the dinner, doing our laundry, allowing Jeff to shower, for guiding us with the new vehicles and of course...for the truffles, thank you so much, for everything.

To Ty and Courtney, for looking after the needs of our children, lending us your Escape, your constant messages, support and encouragement...we love you. You both deserve every happiness in life and we know you will achieve it. Thank you.

To Glenn and Anne for the truck, for breakfast, for the hangers, the shoulders, the conversations and for always being there...we needed you and you came through. We will never forget what you have done for us. Thank you.

To the Pitlane staff, thank you for your concern and kind words. Thank you for understanding that Jeff is under tremendous stress.

To Rick and Stacy - You made one of the most difficult parts of this whole thing, easy. You gave us your home. We had no idea what to do or how to do it, and you stepped in and gave us the answer. We will never be able to repay you for that and will always be grateful that you took away what would have been the hardest task, finding a new home, before we were even ready to tackle the problem. Very few people would do what you did...thank you.

To Michelle, Jan, Jaqui, Shelley, and everyone else at Victim Services - where would I be without you? than you for keeping an eye on me, for hooking me up, for having big shoulders and for always having kleenex. For the emails, the texts, the phone calls and so very many hugs...thank you so very much.

To Darren and Jen. There are no words. We owe you so much and would have been lost without you. Thank you for making the most difficult time in our lives so much easier on us. For loving our children as if they were your own. For being there to debrief with. Staying with a fellow Captain on the Fire Department and a Social Worker, we were in good hands. Thank you for listening and helping us to make sense of an impossible situation. You are such special friends. We will never forget what you did for us.

To Sheila, Patti and Jodi. Thank you for being by my side during the hardest 3 days of my life. Thank you for your friendship and all the things you said, and didn't say. Thank you for knowing. Thank you for taking over. Thank you for the encouragement, support and strength. For picking me up when I fell, over and over again. For talking me up, and down. For letting me cry and for drying my tears. For breakfast, lunch, and supper. For being inside my head when I couldn't figure out what was in there myself. I truly honestly would not have gotten through those 3 days, or the many that have followed, without you. Thank you to Jeff, Barry and Matt for taking over and doing all that Jeff couldn't do himself when he wasn't there. I will always remember the strength and smarts of my 3 surrogate husbands that week and would have been lost without them.

To Jodi and now Brenda, for looking after my most precious assets and making sure they were okay when I couldn't. For providing normalcy to them and assuring me, over and over and aver again, that they were and will be, fine. For supporting and encouraging me and being such wonderful friends to me during some of my tougher moments.

To the Wormington family for being on the other end of the phone, for checking in, for driving all the way up to help only to be forbidden entry to the town, forcing you to go home discouraged. for looking after the kids, for supporting us, for maintaining a normal birthday party under the most abnormal circumstances. For bringing us food, helping us unpack and for all you will continue to do for us in the future...thank you so very much for always being there.

To my Daddy...who was out west when he got a text from Shelley announcing there was a tornado in Goderich and it sounded really bad...who tried unsuccessfully for a couple of hours to get ahold of most of my family...who was on his way to the airport when he was finally notified that we were in fact okay...who has checked in and provided support, caring and advice from across the country when we know it's killing him to be there and not here, for allowing up to smpty your house to replace what we lost...thank you for always being you, and always being there.

To my family...where do I begin? Walking in from Saltford to rescue my children, keeping them safe, secure and loved for the better part of a week, for checking in multiple times every day, for "rallying the troops", for the messages on my facebook wall every day, for trusting us to handle this ourselves, for your prayers, support, encouragement, and for hiding your tears from us. For doing everything you did and everything we don't even know about...Thank God for all of you. Thank you.

To Nicole, for being here with me, standing beside me, packing up my house, entertaining the kids, making sure I ate, following me out the door when the tears overcame me, looking me in the eye but keeping your mouth closed because you knew there were no words that could make it better... for always being there...thank you for being my sister.

And to the brother who is five years younger than me but my "big brother" in every sense of the word...how do I thank you? You saved me. You watched out for Jeff and kept me informed. You watched out for me and kept me sane. You had to be Mom and Dad's informant, promising them that we were doing okay. You have always had "a guy" for something, and now, when we needed it most, you came through, over and over again. You were my rock, Michael. You should be very proud of how well you handled this, and handled us, especially considering you don't even live here and didn't have to come at all. I owe so much to you. You have absolutely shone throughout this entire ordeal. We have been there for eachother throughout so many things, and now this. This ranks right up there...there is no bond stronger on Earth.

And to my Jeff. A tornado went through our home, our vehicles, our life...but not our marriage. Our marriage is stronger and we know now that if we can come out the other side of this, we can weather any and all of life's "storms". Thank you for your strength, for your compassion, for being such a caring and brilliant father. For trusting me to handle things in a way that ensured they would be taken care of, and for taking care of things when I had nothing left to give anymore. For accepting my brother for who he is and letting him have the answers. For all you have done for this family, and this community, you are a hero.

So you see? I did not do this. All of those people and so many others that I didn't name specifically here, did this. If not for them, this story certainly wouldn't have been told the way that it has been.

My brother wasn't there when I freaked out at my grandma's house and headed for the basement during the threat of more bad weather on the Wednesday. He heard all about it though. (One thing about my family: we are close...and everyone knows everyone else's business). It was no surprise to me when he mentioned hearing all about it.

He said to me at one point after that:

"You are going to have people who are jealous of all you are going to get now - new house, new kitchen, new bathrooms, new vehicles. Jealous of the attention. Of the opportunities that may come out of this. You are going to have people who don't understand why you are acting the way you are when you and your family escaped unharmed, when you recovered most of your contents unlike some people who lost everything. You are going to have people who think you should be grateful, who think you should be 'over it' and who just don't understand why you are acting the way you are". That you are "lucky". That you need to "let go and move on".

"Don't you ever forget", he continued, "those people were not crouched down in their basement stairwells, with a 6 year old and a 3 year old screaming between them while their house broke apart above them...they will never know what that feels like or does to a person's insides."

He's right.

They will never know what it was like to walk out onto what was left of our front porch and see what we saw in those first few minutes. What it was like to see my husband running around in circles in absolute panic. What it was like to watch him leave and only see him in passing throughout the most difficult time in my life. What it was like to walk my children throughout the jungle that was my neighbourhood without their father, trying to keep them safe, ultimately responsible for everything that was happening to them in those first few hours afterwards. They will never know the guilt I feel from what those kids were exposed to while I was in shock. The guilt Jeff feels for not being there for wife and children. They will never know what its like to smell gas on your street, a smell so strong it puts you on your knees and makes you physically nauseous...fearing your entire street could blow up at any moment, and feeling like you didn't know where to go or what to do. They will never know what it is like to hear sirens in your head long after they have stopped wailing. To stick your hand out your bedroom ceiling into the sky. To have your home condemned and to drive by it every day, forbidden to enter it, and having to subject your children who have spent their lives to date in that house, to that.

They may not be getting a new house. But they have no idea what we have went through, and will continue to go through, to get ours. We are not lucky that we are getting a new house. We are lucky that we are alive and together. The other day someone said to me "Homes can always be rebuilt"...and yes, that's true...but it minimizes what we are going through. Please don't do that.

For those directly affected, the F3 tornado that ravaged Goderich on August 21 2011 was not an event. It is a process. It's not over. It's not all better. Just because the streets have reopened, the stores have reopened, and fundraising dollars are coming in, doesn't mean everything is alright now. In many ways we are just getting started in our journey of healing. We can not pretend to be "over it", that it is a thing of the past...because it's not....it is very much a part of our everyday life, and will be, for a very long time.

In my very first post in this series, I remembered that I had written a post awhile ago, before the tornado ever happened questioning the reasons why things happen to us. what the message is supposed to be, why things happen to us the way that they do. Is the Universe trying to tell us something? I have been reminded of that post a lot in the last few weeks and I still don't know that I have come to any sense of peace around that.

But what I do know, more than ever before, is that we are blessed. We live in an outstanding community, surrounded by and supported by amazing friends and family. People have stepped up for us in ways I would have never dreamt possible.

Perhaps this blog will in some way answer some questions I asked aloud in that original post, what feels like a lifetime ago. This blog has generated a lot of attention, thanks to all of you passing it along to others. Because of what I have written, a few opportunities have presented themselves to me. Maybe I am heading down a different path, or maybe its just temporary, I don't know. While staying at Jen's house for those 2 weeks she was adamant that good was going to come to us out of all of this. To Jeff, and to me. I don't know what, if anything will happen, but I am ready to find out and open to the possibilities.

We are not victims. We are survivors. We will recover. But it won't be tomorrow. There have been some dark moments. We lived in the dark for 4 days and felt like we were walking in the dark for a lot longer than that.

In the weeks since the tornado, I have learned of many others who are also walking in the dark, searching for answers, questioning the reasons and the future. People whose lives are undergoing huge changes, having nothing to do with a tornado. There has been a lot of bad news in my circle of friends and aquaintances lately. Its almost overwhelming when you start to add it all up. So much sadness, shock, fear and uncertainty. So much darkness, in the lives of so many people I know and care about...

And so, to end this off, I will share something my friend Jen (another friend not mentioned before...I have a lot of friends named Jen!) shared with me.

She reminded me that you have to wait out the dark in order for the morning to come.

Thank you, to all of you, for your love, support, encouragement and prayers. It has meant everything to me, and to us.

I will keep you updated.

:)

Tornado in Goderich...where we are now.

2011-09-12T21:32:00.001-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

This will be a "get you up to date" post...

We brought our kids back to Goderich on the Saturday Saturday the 27th, aafter celebrating the birthdays of Makenna and 3 of her cousins at Jeff's parents' farm.
7 people within 2 families lived under one roof and coexisted very well together...better than I thought we would have. Our hosts were exceptional - providing for our every need, anticipating everything before we did. As soon as our kids arrived and became comfortable with their new surroundings, Darren's wife Jen sat down with them and made a big grocery list, ensuring she got food they were used to eating too. Their daughter and our daughter, already close friends, enjoyed spending so much time together as if they were sisters and were often heard giggling well past bedtime. Our son worked his magic and charmed Darren and Jen to no end. One night he even ran across the room right past his Daddy and jumped up into Darren's lap to snuggle in and watch TV.

Jeff returned to work the following Monday, 8 days after the tornado. I did not, as there were still so many things to take care of, phone calls to make and appointments to be available and present for.

Dealing with the claims department for our vehicle insurance proved to be frustrating, time consuming, and exhausting. Throughout this time we were borrowing another firefighter's truck, and my cousin's Escape...both of which were wonderful and such a huge help to us, but both of which were only temporary. We didn't have rental insurance on our vehicles because, as Jeff said when purchasing the policy "what are the chances both vehicles will ever be down at the exact same time?"

What are the chances.

After many days of bickering back and forth, and me finally handling the "negotiations" like a "Noble" would, we settled our claims. Jeff found a truck almost exactly like his old one and my mom is "gifting" her van to me. We are so glad to have this part behind us, although really...we just want our old vehicles back.

I called and cancelled all of the services to our house on Park Street (hydro, gas, water heater, phone, cable, etc). Each service provider wanted to know my reasons for cancelling.

So I told them.

I must admit, I did grin a bit each and every time as there was silence, then stuttering, then apologies and condolences, and of course, the need to hear our story. Were we home at the time? We we alright? Well that's the main thing isn't it?

Yes, yes it is.
But just for the record? This whole thing is still a huge pain in the ass.

I had a long chat with the water heater company about whether or not they really expected me to buy out my contract since they would be unable to come in and remove the water heater themselves. They expected I would buy it out and I informed them there was absolutely no way I was purchasing something that I would never use again and would be bulldozed in the near future.

I won that argument.

I became so frustrated with my phone and internet provider that I actually cancelled my service with them and switched to another provider altogether.

After a few false starts and miscommunications, I did take both kids to trauma counselling. It proved very beneficial for them, especially for my daughter who I was most worried about. I was able to sit in on her session, watch as she drew pictures of her house both before and after the tornado, and discuss how she felt about it all. The counsellor was able to get her to say things I couldn't, and the session had me in silent tears more than once.

After spending 14 days at Darren and Jen's, we moved across town into a rental home, the one that Jeff's friend Rick offered us. Each kid has their own bedroom, there is a big backyard and a finished basement. When it came time to move and unload the 48 foot storage trailer, there was nothing on Earth I was dreading more. Our fire chief set the pagers off, dispatching "anyone available" to our new address. Our fire family responded with their wives and children and the trailer was unloaded in under 2 hours. It was now time for us to set up our new, albeit temporary, home. We held Makenna's birthday party with my family there that same weekend.

We have met with 3 different contractors from the North Huron area. Each one came and toured the house, and later met with us again to go over their proposals. We have decided on which contractor to use and once our house insurance agent officially agrees, we will wait for a demo permit from the town so that our house can come down and the rebuilding process can begin.

Our daughter began grade 2 on Sept 6, one day after her 7th birthday. Our rental home is 4 houses away from her school.

I was also faced with the task of transitioning our son into municipal daycare during this time. Jodi, our home daycare provider of 6 years is taking her first leave of absence since she began working. She is expecting her third child this month. I knew this all along and had long ago decided to enroll Jack in our municipal daycare once the time came...it just so happened that the time came at the same time everything else came. This was the first time I had ever left either of my children in any other child care provider's care long term, the first time in Jack's life. We visited the centre 3 times, each one full of tears...not just from Jack. Today was his first full day there without mommy and he broke my heart. He cried, I cried, even the director of the childcare centre herself was close to tears. The thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows everyone and it doesn't take long for others to learn of your story. Thankfully, I know many of the Goderich Daycare staff on a personal level, including Jack's primary teacher. Thankfully everyone there is very understanding of Jack's situation and emotions. Hopefully it won't take long for Jack to return to his happy, outgoing charming self.

And the truffles?
My friend Jen, who washed Jeff's workclothes that day we packed up the house as per Patti and Sheila's orders, who took that giant bag of flour off my hands when I could no longer keep it, who hosted a dinner the night after we packed up our house and let Jeff shower in her home...she is one hell of a chef. Always has been. I have gotten many fabulous recipes from her over the years. I knew if I could trust anyone with the task of whipping up 450 truffles she had never made before with a week's notice, it would be her. She never hesitated and was half done the day after I asked. 492 chocolate chip cookie dough truffles were delivered to my cousin's wedding this past weekend, and received rave reviews...even from my brother who was skeptical at the idea of anyone else making them but me.

As I sit here writing this, it has been 22 days since the tornado touched down. I returned to work for the first time today. It took me 22 days to feel like enough had been settled, solved and calmed down that I could return to my life.

It is not "all better"...things are not "back to normal" and won't be for a very long time. When I drive down our street my chest gets tight and my eyes burn with the threat of more tears. When I hear people talking about the tornado while in line ups at the grocery store or the bank, I want to tell them they have no idea what it's really like.

I stay quiet though.

When a thunderstorm approaches my heart quickens and I get nervous.

The killer though?
When I allow myself to remember the moment in the bathroom of that house when I discovered I was pregnant with Jack, remembering when I was in labour with him in my bedroom, remembering when we paced all the floors in that house with him for months after he was born, remembering the moments both kids took their first steps in the same hallway, when Jeff's dad installed the homemade staircase, when we finished the basement to be a toyroom/firefighter den, recalling the birthdays celebrated both indoors and out, sitting on the swings in tears in the backyard rocking Jack after I learned my mom was leaving her partner, spending hours on the phone in the basement with my dad over the past few years, planting every single shrub, flower and vine on that property as per my grandmother's meticulous instructions, seeing in my mind's eye Jodi walking through our front door asking Makenna to be her flower girl, teaching Makenna the beauty of vegetable gardens from planting the seed to sealing the jar on the pickles, my 30th birthday with my friends in the backyard and the garage, remembering when I stood at my island in the kitchen on the phone iwth my dad and hearing him whisper that grandma had died and then later arranging her antique kitchen tools on a shelf in that same kitchen, Tim and Nicole walking through that front door to announce they were finally going to be parents, sitting on the phone in the living room learning that Heather was pregnant...running for the phone when it rang, in tears before I ever even answered it, knowing it was Adam announcing Lindsay was pregnant, sitting at my kitchen table learning Jodi was pregnant...and so many more...when I allow myself to remember these special moments, some of them life changing moments...the tears return.

It is not "all better".

I look back at the last 3 weeks and I think

"Did all of that really happen? Did we really go through all of that? Say all of that? Feel all of that? Were there really firefighters in the back of pickup trucks patrolling our pitch black and silent streets with flashlights? Did Barry really board up my front door with a drill he dug out of our garage, by flashlight? Did I really cry my eyes out to the Manager of Huron County Children's Services? Various OPP officers? Various Victim Services colleagues? The Director of the Goderich Daycare? All of whom I correspond with on a professional basis? Did I really not see my husband or know the danger he and my brother were really in for the better part of 2 days? Did my Mom and Paul really walk in from Saltford to get the kids? Did Lynn and I really walk those kids all over what looked like a warzone in our neighbourhood, carrying a suitcase and 2 carseats the whole time? Did all of that really happen?

Yes, it really did.

This has been our story. The story of us, our tornado story, the way I remember it.

12 seconds has forever changed the four of us.
12 seconds will stay with the four of us for the rest of our lives.
12 seconds we will never get back.
12 seconds strengthened my entire extended family.
12 seconds gave me a new perspective on what is important and what is not.
12 seconds changed my community, changed my friendships, changed my life.

12 seconds.

There will be one more post in this series...stay tuned...

Day 4: Wednesday, August 24 2011

2011-09-07T14:43:00.002-04:00

To read earlier entries about the tornado, click here.

I could still hear the sirens. They had been wailing constantly throughout Sunday and Monday. Everywhere I went there were emergency vehicles. It was now Wednesday morning and when it was very quiet, I could still hear them in my head.

Wednesday morning I woke up remembering Jeff had a dentist appointment in Clinton scheduled for the next day. I texted my mom, told her to call and cancel it. Jeff and Darren had already left for the firehall to be fitted for the asbestos masks, planning to shower there too. Jeff was getting used to showering all over town. I had been showering at Darren's and today, for the first time, the water was ice cold. Still no hydro or gas at his place after 3.5 days, the hot water heater had finally run out.

Sigh.

I got dressed and headed across town to the Knights of Columbus Hall (KOC). It had been 3.5 days and the clean up had kicked into high gear. Everywhere you looked people were working together to cut down and remove trees, clean up backyards and do whatever else they could to help whoever else they could. Hydro crews were working around the clock to restore service to as much of the town as possible and gas crews were slowly restoring service as well. Union Gas had shut off natural gas to our entire town of 8000 people on Sunday afternoon/evening. Monday night they had started restoring it and were working bit by bit to get the town back up and running. People were coming into Goderich from far and wide to help. I had run into 2 men from Howick Township( where I grew up) yesterday, both sent by their municipalities to help mine. Both men, in separate capacities, drove right by my house and had stopped to talk to us when they saw that that was where we lived. The shock was written all over their faces at the state of our town...like nothing they had ever seen before. As residents of Goderich we were overwhelmed and amazed by the help that was pouring in from across the province.

But driving down Victoria St through town, as you came to my corner and saw that church, the bank and my street, it still took your breath away. Our town had been ravaged by a natural phenomenon. It was still so surreal to think that this actually happened. The church was becoming a symbol of the damage to Goderich in the media and driving by it multiple times every single day, it was never any less shocking to me.

My task today was to go to the Knights of Columbus Hall. Not as a worker or a volunteer, but as someone needing help. That was not going to come easily to me.

I walked in and was met by a few of my Victim Services colleagues. One of them gave me a hug and asked how I was doing...she hadn't seen me since Sunday evening. I opened my mouth to answer her...and the floodgates released. I cried, and cried and cried. I cried until my eyes were red and swollen. For the past few days I had so much to do and was so busy getting the kids looked after, dealing with the house, insurance, engineers, packing everything and moving it out...and I was always surrounded by people. Now, all that was done. My house had been dealt with, there was nothing else to do with it, and I was alone. My emotions were like raw, wide open sores at this point.

What was I to do now?

I noticed that our Fire Chief was in the room, meeting with others as he had been doing around the clock. He saw me there, saw the state I was in. Great, now he would tell Jeff I was losing it over at KOC. He had such a sad look in his eyes, like he wished he could help me but didn't know how. He looked like shit himself.

After I had calmed down, Victim Services pointed out the different supports around the room. Red Cross. Insurance Bureau of Canada. Huron County Social Services. Free food. All of these were things I now required and qualified for.

For the last 12 years I have worked in social services. Each day part of my job was recognizing the needs of families who couldn't recognize them themselves, trying to tell the family that they required certain outside help, and convincing them to apply for it. My job was to be well aquainted with available services in the area for those needing help, and hooking the people up to those services that needed it. If there was one thing I knew, it was Social Services.

And now, here I was, one of those people. The irony wasn't lost on me, I assure you.

I struggled with this and even said it out loud to my Victim Services colleagues. How did I become one of those people? I was no longer the helper, I was the one being helped. I didn't like that one bit. I really struggled with accepting this.

My colleague gently reminded me that I had become one of those people because a tornado went through my house. Not because of anything I had or hadn't done. And that I wasn't alone in struggling to wrap my head around that...the Executive Director of Victim Services herself, who had worked in Social Services her entire career too, longer than me, was in the exact same boat.

It really sucked.

The first thing I did was sit down and register with Red Cross. This is the very first organization I gave all of my information to. When I rattled off Park Street as my address, the volunteer actually stopped writing and looked up at me.

"I'm so sorry" he said softly.

Wow. so my street was well known now.

Red Cross was kind of the "hub" for all emergency supports. Once registered with them, whatever you needed or later qualified for, they would already have you on record and contact you to let you know what was out there for you. They could provide you with emergency shelter, vouchers, food, etc...none of which we needed at that moment.

Next I walked over to talk to the manager of Huron County Children's Services, who was spearheading all things Social Services at the KOC. She recognized me immediately as we know eachother professionally and initially assumed I was there to support the victims in a professional capacity. She asked me what my role was going to be and when I opened my mouth to answer, the floodgates released again.

Crying infront of this woman was a hard, hard moment for me. I had to swallow enormous amounts of pride to accept that this was happening.

She rushed in to hug me as I began to tell her our story. She ushered me over to a chair and said she would help me in whatever way she could. I asked her if any of the houses in town with For Sale signs were available for rent. She looked at me dumbfounded, and proclaimed that to be a brilliant idea. She said she would start calling the local realtors and suggesting it. She then directed me to The Salvation Army across the road from the KOC where "Emergency Start up Funds" were being issued to people in situations like ours. You had to fill out a short form with your name, address, children's information, etc. That was it, and they would provide you with a cheque, right there on the spot, to help you begin to get back on your feet. You could use it for food, for lodging, for gas, for whatever you wanted. It was there for you. Now that the Town of Goderich had been officially declared a National Disaster Zone and was in a State of Emergency these types of programs were available to its residents who were affected. They would also provide wage loss coverage if you had to miss work and wouldn't be paid for it.

I balked at this idea. We had a place to stay, we had food, we did not need wage replacement. We had clothing, we had borrowed vehicles from others, we were "fine", a lot better off than many others. Victim Services and Social Services insisted I go over, that there was enough for anyone and everyone who needed it.

So I went. I was the first one. It was very quick, maybe 10 minutes, but it was so hard for me to be that person, accepting help from County Social Services. I cried so much that morning.

Jeff eventually met me over at KOC while I was talking to the Insurance Bureau of Canada about what to expect as far as house insurance, bringing in contractors, rebuilding our house, etc would go. I was glad he was there for that, because as I said, I was not comfortable dealing with all of the insurance issues on my own. He said that now we had to be thinking of which contractors we wanted to bring in and start making appointments with them. The insurance company wanted rebuild quotes from 3 different contractors.

Jeff had recieved a text that morning from a friend who used to be on the Fire Dept. Rick stated that they were moving up North and needed rid of their house...did we need a place to stay?

Jeff and I went over to Rick's place and discussed the possibilty of renting it until our house was rebuilt. Again, I could not believe there was no damage in that area of town, steps away from Makenna's school. I said I would give his info to our insurance agent and that together they could work out the details and decide whether or not this would work for our insurance company.

From there we went to Clinton, a neighbouring town, to talk to our bank. Our mortgage is with the Credit Union in Goderich, but the bank itself was damaged so the staff couldn't be in it. They had set up in Clinton's Credit Union. We discussed our options with them and deferred a couple of our weekly mortgage payments. We then drove on to Wingham to visit the bank Jeff does his personal banking from. That bank is located on the Square in Goderich, which no one was getting anywhere near for quite some time, so they had representatives in Wingham. After talking to them for awhile we headed to Gorrie.

It was time to visit our kids.

I had called my grandma when we were in Clinton and told her we would be coming, to make us supper, and that there would be absolutely no crying when we got there. None. Or I would turn around and leave again. She hadn't seen us yet and I knew she would be a puddle when she did. My grandma said she wouldn't tell the kids were were coming, that she would let us surprise them.

We walked through her front door and peeked around into the living room where the kids were.

Makenna's eyes lit up and she came running full tilt towards Jeff. He lifted her up off the ground and bear hugged his little girl. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and was not letting go. You have to remember, that on Sunday afternoon, when the storm had ended, Jeff's pager went off, he ran upstairs, yelled at us to stay downstairs, and then he was gone. The last time she saw him was in the stairway, crouched down between him and I as a tornado was roaring down her street. The next thing she knew, her Daddy was gone with the Fire Department.

Now it was 3.5 days later and here he finally was, safe and sound. She was not about to let him go.

My little man, who has always been a mama's boy, did the same thing to me. The first thing I noticed was his speech. Jack's speech was evaluated last Winter because he was stuttering and mispronouncing his words. It was determined that his issue was an emotional one. That if he was sick, overly excited, scared, etc..any extreme emotion would affect his speech abilities.

Here he was in my arms 3.5 days later and I, his mother, the closest person to him on Earth, could barely understand what he was saying to me. This tornado had impacted every single aspect of my life...right down to my son's ability to speak.

We had supper there with the kids and were joined by my mom and also by my aunt and uncle who had already planned to visit not knowing we would actually be there. Obviously the tornado and its aftermath was all we were talking about. Jeff was sharing a lot of his experiences he had had thus far with the fire dept with a very captive audience. I kept stealing glances at Makenna, watching to see what her reaction to all this tornado talk was.

Makenna has always been a sensitive girl, one who takes things to heart and internalizes. I was worried about how all of this was going to affect her long term.

While we were there the weather was deteriorating. There had been tornado watches issued earlier in the day for basically our entire province. While it was a bit worrisome for us, because it had been issued for such a wide geographical area, we assumed it was Environment Canada trying to cover themselves this time around.
While at my grandma's though the skies were darkening, the rain was coming, and the thunder was loud. Both kids were antsy about the thunder and I learned that when Jack went upstairs for a nap he asked if the roof was going to come off my grandma's house while he slept.

Three and a half years old.

When the tornado watch was upgraded to a warning, I started to feel really anxious. I could tell my uncle did too because they got up and left. They were worried about their daughter being home alone about 20 mins away. I was pacing the floor, glued to the TV warnings and my phone, constantly looking out the window.

At one point I was so anxious I felt like I couldn't breathe. I picked Jack up, grabbed Makenna's hand and said we were going to my grandma's basement. Her unfinished, dirt basement.

There was a tornado warning, the skies were dark, it was raining hard...it was time to go to the basement. I didn't understand why no one had suggested this yet, given all we had just went though. I opened the door down to my grandma's basement, walked down 2 steps and Jack started screaming hysterically. I tried to calm him down and he just kept screaming that he was afraid of the storm. Jeff came and grabbed him out of my arms and yelled at me to stop scaring the kids. I thought I was the only one in the house doing the right thing. We had 2 kids to look after, there was a tornado warning issued. a warning means they had been spotted in the area. They were imminent. Hello???

Jeff said they were not spotted in Gorrie, that if we had not been through what we had just been through that I would not be reacting this way and that I needed to calm down. He said if I wanted to go to the basement that was fine, but that the kids were staying with him. I yelled at him that everyone should be in the damned basement and he loudly disagreed. It was the first time since Sunday we had argued.

All this infront of both kids, my mother and my grandmother.
Not our best parenting moments right there.

No one went to the basement. Jeff sat in the kitchen with Jack in his lap, his head buried in Jeff's shoulder, whimpering as it continued to thunderstorm. I continued to pace. I sat in my grandma's bathroom hallway, what I percieved to be the safest area in the house, with Makenna as she chattered away about who knows what, trying to make me feel better. My mom and grandma were convinced the storm was passing through and trying to lighten the mood.

And that's when it hit me. We were traumatized. Jack for sure, me for sure, and likely Makenna too. We were going to need trauma counselling.

When there was a break in the storm my mom decided to take the kids back to her place. Jeff decided we would go visit his parents who lived about 10 mins away. I resisted all of this at first. Was it really a good idea for my mom to be driving our two children in this weather, even if it was only 7 minutes? Was it really smart for us to be driving? were we really going to leave my grandma home alone? This all seemed ridiculous to me. Then I realized my mom wanted to get the kids home and Jeff wanted to get to his parents before the next storm rolled through...before I scared the kids again.

Once I realized that, I was all for this idea, and no one was moving fast enough in my opinion. Finally the kids and my mom were on my way, we said goodbye to my grandma, and we were on our way. We couldn't bring the kids home yet, there was still no hydro and I had no idea what I would do with them once we got them back into town. We promised we would see them at the farm for Makenna's birthday party on Saturday.

We pulled into Jeff's parents driveway in a trcuk they obviously didn't recognize. They didn't know we were coming either. They hugged us both, very happy to see us, and we sat in their kitchen sharing stories. At one point I used their computer, thrilled to have access to the internet again. I logged into facebook and laughed out loud when i saw I had over 100 notifications. I sent some emails and noticed we had received an email money transfer from friends who lived in Labrador. People we had met in person once, at a friend's wedding 9 years ago. Before leaving the farm I had a nice, hot shower. I could have slept there, I was so exhausted. Darren called Jeff's cell phone and informed him his hydro had just been restored. We loaded back into the truck to head back into Goderich. Jeff couldn't be away overnight anyway with all the calls the fire department had been getting.

Once back at Darren's we watched the news and exchanged stories with him about our days. His wife and daughter would be returning tomorrow morning. We were invited to another fireman's house for breakfast in the morning and then were planning to go to Bayfield to get some belongings out of our vehicles.

Laying in bed that night, as everything grew quiet, I thought about the way Jack had screamed in fear of the storm. About the way I had panicked and felt like I couldn't breathe. About how Makenna would not let go of her daddy.

I could still hear the sirens.

We were traumatized.

The story continues...stay tuned...

Day 3: Tuesday, August 23 2011

2011-09-06T11:05:00.004-04:00

To read earlier posts about the tornado, click here.

We had been asleep for a couple hours when the screams of Jeff and Darrens' pagers broke the dead silence. They had been called out every few hours all day to suspected gas leaks, auto alarms, a burn barrel on fire, etc.

Seriously, again? Would they never get decent sleep? Darren ran out of the house, Jeff stumbling out after him, trying to find his way in the dark of an unfamiliar house and the two of them were gone. Who knew what they were headed to now.
Turns out it was a grass fire, intentionally set by some fine young folk just out of town.

Because you know...the fire department hadn't been busy enough lately...

When we got up for the day around 7:30am, I updated my facebook status to say that we needed boxes...lots of them. Almost immediately a friend replied that they had something like 16 boxes and her husband would drop them off on his way to work. Jeff headed out to Tim Hortons in the vehicle he had and I said I would meet him at the house. As usual, the main street between Darren's and our house, Victoria Street/Hwy 21 was blocked to traffic. I took the longest way around possible to get to my street and when I came to the 5 Points there was an OPP directing traffic. I rolled down my window and told her I was trying to get to Park Street. She asked if I lived on that street and when I told her I did she asked to see my ID to prove it. I had to dig it out of my backpack in the back seat of Jodi's van. I told her we had people coming to help us pack up our house today. She shook her head and stated that unless people lived on that street, they weren't allowing people on it.

Well, wasn't that lovely.

I drove the block to Park St where I was met by another OPP officer. He didn't question me at all as I turned and parked beside the house. Jeff wasn't far behind me. My brother parked at The PharmaPlus across the highway and walked over, joined by his wife, lifelong friend who is the younger brother of a highschool friend of mine, and 3 other Brussels Firemen. Sheila and her husband parked at a convenience store on the next block and walked over. I was worried about how I was going to get the storage trailer onto our street if the OPP were restricting access so I approached the OPP at our corner to have a conversation. He said he had no problem allowing it on the street, but all of the other officers along Victoria Street would also have to allow it in. The trailer was coming in from out of town and would have to make it all the way down the closed road. I asked the OPP officer if he could chat with all his fellow officers along the street so that I knew they were all in agreement. He said just to tell them that he (Officer Graham) had okayed it. I called Patti and Barry who were supplying the trailer, passed on that info, and off they went to get it.

Shortly after we arrived, our neighbours across the street informed us that our cat was in the garage of the neighbours beside us. They had given him food and water and he was doing just fine. Later Jeff went over and got him and returned him to our house where he spent the day trying to avoid everyone and everything.

A friend from Goderich who was vacationing in Michigan messaged me that she had a bunch of empty totes in her shed and gave me the code to get in. Sheila's husband and I and drove across town to get them, and I was again struck at both the devastation, and the areas that were completely untouched, all within a few blocks of eachother.

I had decided we would start on the upper floor and pack it up first, since I knew without question that part of the house would need to come down, and that from there we would work our way down. Nicole, Sheila and I started packing up the dressers and everything upstairs. My birth control pills were placed directly in my hand as I was told "the last thing you need right now is to not be taking these...we're not packing them, we're putting them right in your hand..."

That's a good friend right there.

I was in my room for a bit, packing stuff up, but I couldn't focus on it. People were coming in and out, dropping by to see what they could do, offering their condolences, wanting to have a look. Jeff's cousin, her husband and their friend showed up and set right to work. His cousin had tears in her eyes and couldn't hide her shock at the state of my house. Her husband builds houses and was fairly certain ours would be condemned after the visit from the engineer. I don't even know who their friend was, but she was wonderful. Very sensitive to my needs, very discreet in her questioning and very delicate with the belongings of people she had never met, in a house she had never entered before.

Patti took charge of my kitchen and was quite happy with what she found...everything from rolos to caramels. She kept everyone's spirits high starting from the moment she pulled up to the house and got out exclaiming how she "loved what we had done with the place...nice sky light, very open concept, etc". My sister in law Nicole's brother John was one of our helpers too. He is a fireman with Mike, and he and Patti know eachother as they work in the same profession. At one point I watched as he listened to Patti share some of what she had been dealing with as a nurse for the past few days. It was good for her to be able to vent to someone who truly understood. I was glad we had 2 nurses at our place because one of our male helpers was diabetic and a few of us were worried he wouldn't properly take care of himself throughout the day.

As the help converged on our property, I began to feel guilty. We had about 25 people helping, taking charge and doing an awesome job. Others on our street were dealing with their messes alone. At one point the woman who lives two doors down came over and shyly asked my brother if she could get some help getting a couple things out of her house. Without hesitation he and the guys that had come with him for the day assisted her with what they could, entering her house from the backyard and removing those special items you can't replace.

A newscrew from CHCH came to the house and interviewed me. Jeff was actually present for that interview but they didn't film him. It was on that station's dinnerhour newscast that evening.

My brother was walking around making decisions about what was to come out of my house and what would not due to damage and at one point had called me into the living room. We were also distinguishing between what would be packed into the storage trailer and what would be packed into the vehicles and taken to Darren's house. Mike was asking me about what kids movies I wanted to bring with me and as I was going though them I saw the pieces to one of Jack's games on the floor where he had been playing with it a few days ago. I thought to myself that he would like that to go to Darren's house and started to gather it up. I realized the most important piece wasn't there anymore, it had either been blown somewhere across the house or already ben packed up. He loved that game and I knew as soon as I saw him he would ask me for it. My eyes started to water as I tried not to think about how unfair this was to him and his sister. I didn't even know where all the pieces to his damned game were. I went back to the movies and behind one found a bill from a local car parts company that was not there a few days ago...it must have been blown there. My vision became blurry as the tears continued to build. My brother was right above me asking me a question about something. I couldn't answer it for fear my voice would break if I opened my mouth. When he persisted I whispered for him to get Patti, unable to meet his eyes. Mike yelled into the kitchen, asking Patti to come over for a minute. She joined us in the living room, took one look at me staring straight ahead at the wall, eyes threatening to spill over at any moment and put her hand on my shoulder.

"What's up?" She asked gently.
"I think I need to go for a walk now" I tried to whisper it but it came out in a wail. The whole house full of people heard me. She helped me up and we walked out my front door and down the street, me sobbing the whole way.

We reached the Union Burger parking lot (whose sign was currently in Patti's backyard 2 blocks away) where the CHCH and Global TV trucks were parked.

It was all just too much. How do you pack up your house in a matter of hours? How do you decide what to keep and what to get rid of? How do you deal with so much loss? I hadn't seen my kids in days and they would never enter this house again. After today I would be without a home. Our vehicles were ruined. This was the first time my husband had even been around since Sunday. It was all just too much to handle.
Patti's eyes watered as she showed me a picture she had just snapped with her phone from inside my house. It was of the print I had in my kitchen stating
"A house is built with boards and beams, a home is built with love and dreams".
It didn't matter, she said. It's just a building. We were taking the memories with us. No one could take the memories, the experiences, away from us. They were always a part of us, no matter where we went.

I told her how I felt guilty because we had so much help, and so many others had no one. She shook her head emphatically, put her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes.

"You listen to me!" She said.
"For the last 2 days, your husband has been away from you and your children. He wasn't able to stay and look after you guys, you had to look after those kids and get them safe and you did that on your own. You didn't know where he was, what he was doing, or what danger he was in. He and your brother and have been out for two days now helping this entire town, helping everyone else but their own family and putting the needs of others in this town first. They have helped and will continue to help anyone in this town who needs it. Today it is your turn. Today you and your husband get help. You and Jeff deserve all this help after everything he has done for this town, and don't you dare doubt it or forget it."

And you know what? She was right. I will never forget that conversation. She was right, and it was okay for us to accept help.

Patti and I returned to the house. Mike checked in with me, and on we went with our day. At one point our vehicle insurance agent called and advised us to have our vehicles towed to Bayfield (a neighbouring town) to be assessed, as all the Goderich lots were already full. Sitting behind his desk in a nearby city, the agent on the other end of the phone was convinced that what we were dealing with was just some body damage. Jeff tried to explain that he was certain both vehicles were write offs and the agent repiled that he found that highly unlikely. Jeff informed him that he was a licenced auto mechanic, knew what he was talking about and was not about to be screwed around. The agent advised us to have our vehicles towed and promised to be in touch. I should have known right then and there the battle we would be in over our vehicles, but wouldn't find that out for another couple of days. Being an auto mechanic, Jeff knows all of the local tow truck operators and even though he was told it would be a long wait before they could get to us, there was a tow truck at our place within an hour. He had us move our vehicles to the Union Burger parking lot. The van was wedged into the garage and it took about 8 guys to lift it up and manually back it up before it could be moved out of the driveway. Both vehicles drove right out though. I think watching his beautiful truck drive away, all bruised and battered, was one of the harder moments for Jeff this far. They would sit in that parking lot until the tow truck could come get both of them together.

I realize that I haven't yet addressed the truffles. Remember how on Sunday I had made 230 of the 450 truffles for my cousin's upcoming wedding? They were still in my freezers, which were still cold thanks to being plugged into the neighbour's generator. Mike was full of questions about what I was going to do with them and believed it necessary to taste test them throughout the day, ensuring they were still okay. I had no idea what I was going to do about them. My cousin's fiancee had been messaging me continuously offering whatever help they could. They are also the ones who bought my kids $200 worth of clothes the day before. I didn't know how to broach the subject with her yet so I avoided it.

That giant bag of flour I had bought on Sunday was still sitting on my kitchen table. What was I supposed to do with it now? Sheila had "disposed of" the steaks that had been thawing on the counter when the tornado hit Sunday afternoon and were still sitting on the counter 2 days later.

People were constantly dropping by throughout the day, offering what they could, saying what they could to try to help. My friend Jen came by with food and Patti and Sheila gave her a box of Jeff's workclothes to wash. One of the many "executive decisions" they made throughout the day. I ended up giving her the flour too, because if anyone could make use of it, she could. We had so much food dropped off to us, we started offering it others. On all of the heavily affected streets people who wanted to help but didn't know what to do walked around offering sandwiches, cold drinks and desserts to those working on their homes. Patti's daughter handed out popsicles to anyone that would take them.

At one point during the day, everything was going along pretty smoothly. We had 2 Goderich firemen and 4 Brussels firemen helping pack and load the storage trailer when, surprise surprise, the pagers went off. 6 of my male helpers took off running to their vehicles as I threw my hands up in frustration.
Would those pagers ever quit??? Was I going to have to deal with the structural engineer on my own?

They returned a short while later and Jeff told me that he had told the department he would not be responding for the rest of the day.

Finally. Hell of a plan.

The day went on with between 20-30 people packing up and moving everything from our home into the storage trailer, Jodi's van and Sheila's husband's truck.

I will be honest and say that I really did nothing. I wandered around and answered people's questions, directed them as to what went where, and talked to people dropping by. Looking back, I realize my head simply wasn't there. I could not wrap my head around what was going on. I kept looking at the other houses on our street, at the church, at the bank. I updated people through texts, BBMs and facebook and was always nearby...but not really there. I sat on the swings in my backyard. The swings were there, but the slide had disappeared. I had planned on making salsa and pasta sauce that coming weekend. There were about 10 cucumbers in my garden ready to be pickled. Now I couldn't even see them. The hammock swing from our front porch, which Makenn and I loved to sit and read in, both together and alone, was stuck high up in a tree in my neighbour's backyard. The wooden glider seat that Jeff's dad had built us a few years ago that was also on our front porch, was completely gone. We hadn't seen even a sliver of it. The tornado picked up the whole thing and threw it somewhere else...for all I knew it was in the house 2 doors down now. When Makenna was a year old my brother bought her a Sesame Street glider swing that sat on the other side of our front porch. She and Jack still used it all the time, as did little friends who visited our home. That swing had flew into our garage and was buried under other things now, mangled and ruined. And yet, the big bag of clothes for my friend's son that Jeff had put on the porch Sunday afternoon, that was supposed to be in my van, sat on my front porch, untouched.

How was all of this even possible? How was this my life now?

The moment of the structural engineer's arrival is a blog post in and of itself. We had recieved a call about 5 minutes earlier informing us she would be there momentarily. The house was empty, the trailer full. After going back in a few times to double and triple check, we were confident we had removed everything we wanted. We had left some stuff, but were okay with that.

This woman gets out of her SUV and you could hear a collective jaw drop from all the males on my property.

Size 6, tall, long dark hair, sunglasses, model material. Gorgeous. This was our engineer? Immediately my brother was skeptical. She introduced herself to us and Jeff, Mike and I led her to the backyard, the eyes of every man nearby following her every move.

Right away she said to Jeff "Well it looks like you'll be getting a new garage!"
All I wanted her to say was that I would be getting a new kitchen.

After touring the basement and main floor we went upstairs. She wouldn't even enter Makenna's or my bedroom, and admonished us for being in there at all. She started to share her plan for "repairing this wall, and that wall, and part of the roof". I looked at Mike, panic in my eyes. I did NOT want to fix this house. I wanted it rebuilt. I would never trust a repair on this house and 2 men who built houses for a living had already been though and told us they would never agree to repair it. Mike and Jeff talked to her a bit more and pointed out a few more things. After awhile she took a few more measurements and determined that not only had the East wall moved, so had the West wall. Both walls had moved at least 3 inches outward. The walls had pulled away from the second floor joists, causing the floor to sag. She also wanted the tarps removed from the roof so she could see the actual damage. All that time Sheila and Jodi's husbands had spent tarping it, and now she wanted it all pulled back. Sheila's husband and my brother worked to remove the tarps and she went up the ladder to have a closer look. again, plenty of male eyes on her as she climbed that ladder. Not completely satisfied, this woman went back into our house and crawled around in our attic. She saw that there was plenty of damage to the rafters. Finally she told us she was going to strongly recommend to the insurance company that the house come down. A short while later 2 of her colleagues met her at our property and walked through the house with her. They agreed and, as expected, told us we were no longer permitted to be in the house - that the next people in should be operating hi hoes.

You would think this would be a sad moment, but really, its what we were hoping for. As I mentioned, the last thing we wanted was to try to repair that house. A rebuild is the only option I felt safe with. We had 2 children that had just survived a tornado in that house and witnessed the after effects. I did not want to bring them back in. Now we would just have to wait for the insurance company to agree.

As our house that was packed into that 48 foot trailer pulled away, we saw that at the same moment our vehicles were being towed out of the Union Burger Parking Lot. Everything we owned, gone just like that. Our Deputy Fire Chief's wife had been helping us throughout the day and when she came across our cat, she volunteered to take him home with her until we were settled. He is a himalayan cat with long white hair. The poor thing had insulation, bits of fibreglass and dirt matted throughout his fur and was just a mess. She scooped him up and took him home, another load off our mind.

Our friend Jen had invited us all over for dinner that night and so we prepared to head over there. The only one left by that point was Mike. He happily accepted the truffles to take home to his freezer. He reached for his car keys but couldn't find them anywhere. Turned out they were attached to his friend's toolbelt. That friend was already at home, an hour away. 2 of the other firemen who came with Mike to help us that day had stayed for awhile to help cut down trees for the people behind us. They had made it as far as Benmiller on their way home and had to turn around to come back and pick up Mike. His buddy who had his keys met him on the road somewhere between his house and mine. Once he had them back, Mike came all the way back to Goderich with the 2 other Brussles firemen to get his car and was finally on his way home to Brussels, truffles and all.

We had a great dinner and visit with our friends at Jen's place that evening. We shared a lot of stories, and even a lot of laughs. Jeff shared stories and experiences he had had with the fire department over the last couple days, and checked out the showering facilities at Jen's place too. One of our friends showed up with The Goderich Signal Star, our community newspaper, and we saw that there was already coverage of the tornado in it. Another friend and I walked to the local store to get some copies of it. She and I each wanted 5 copies to give out to family and friends and, the storeowner gave us a hard time.

"I only have 30 papers, why do you need so many?"

I sighed and looked at her. Was I really going to have to play the "Tornado went through my house" card?.

"I lost my house, she has a tree through her roof, I have money for 5 papers and want 5 papers."

She handed me the newspapers as my friend stifled a laugh.

"You're getting used to saying that aren't you?" My friend said as we walked back.
I just laughed. What else could you do.

We left Jen's house, exhausted. Jeff was due back at the firehall in the morning to be fitted for special masks. Asbestos was suspected to have been disturbed in our downstown business core when the many buildings there were damaged. The fire dept was going to be playing a role in assisting families as they re entered their apartments above the stores to retrieve some belongings, and also with clearing out some of the businesses and so were now required to wear masks specifically protecting them from asbestos.

Awesome.

As we fell asleep at Darren's Tuesday night, still without hydro, I made a plan to go to the Knights of Columbus hall the next morning. Now that there was nothing left to do with the house, I had to figure out what we were supposed to do in order carry on with our lives.

I needed help.

The next blog in this series, detailing Wednesday, August 24th, will be a difficult one to write. Bear with me.

Tornado in Goderich: A video scrapbook.

2011-09-03T23:21:00.000-04:00

To read the earlier posts I have written about the tornado, click here.

I am taking a break from blogging today. I did my daughter's birthday party yesterday and then we moved into our new rental home. So, instead I am posting a number of Youtube videos taken and produced about the tornado. We are in a few of them. I wanted to post a bunch of them here so that I had them and always knew where they were. I hope these will make my posts thus far a little more real for you. Connect the pictures with the words.

The tornado coming off the lake...

This is the interview I did with The Globe and Mail:

To Goderich, With Love...this brought tears to my eyes when I first saw it.

Video from The Insurance Bureau of Canada...we are in this one...

We even made it onto the TV show "100 Huntley Street"! Click here: 100huntley.com - Rebuilding in Goderich Ontario--Bridget Antwi#.TmGlkQwnV4s.facebook

My voice is the first female voice you hear...
And finally...The best video I have seen...so well done...

It has been 14 days now since our lives were turned upside down and inside out.

The next blog I post in this series will be all about the events that took place on Tuesday, August 23, 2011 - the day we packed our home into a 48 foot storage trailer. Stay tuned!

Day 2: Monday, August 22 2011.

2011-09-02T22:58:00.003-04:00

To read about "Day 1", Click here.

Jeff and Darren were out the door again by 5:30 Monday morning. I was awake. I laid in the bed, going through the messages on my phone. One of the first things I read was a facebook status someone posted saying the tornado had lasted just 12 seconds. This floored me. 12 seconds? 12? Alllllllll that devastation and chaos, that would take months, maybe years to clean up, was created in 12 seconds?

The hydro was still out. It was very quiet in the house. I got up and had a shower by flashlight. The water was hot, which I was grateful for. I had no makeup, no hair straightener...I didn't even have my toothbrush.

Awesome.

As I tried to fish my clothes out of the suitcase by flashlight, I was overcome by tears. I sat on the bed and sobbed for the first time. This sucked. All I had to my name right now was in that little suitcase. I forgot to pack toothbrushes. I had a whole day ahead of me to try to figure out how to put my life back together and I was facing it alone. No family in town, my husband was busy with the fire dept...how was I going to figure this out on my own? I went from my Daddy to my boyfriend who eventually became my husband. Now my Daddy was across the country and I still couldn't deal with calling him. I never bothered with learning about our insurance policies or dealing with them, Jeff had always done that. I didn't even know who our house insurance was with. I knew who our vehicle insurance was with, but that company's office was located in our downtown core that had been blown apart. I was pretty sure they wouldn't be answering their phones this morning...not that I even knew what their phone number was. My cell phone was dying anyway. Our broker lived here in town too...who knew what kind of personal situation he was in himself.

I went downstairs, had some juice and some baby carrots. lol. The fridge had been without hydro for about 15 hrs now but everything still seemed okay. My phone was dying again, but I was able to BBM the address of where I was staying and how to get there, to my sister in law who was coming back into town to work with Victim Services. Both her and Mike were taking the day off work to be here. It was Monday.

By 8am I was getting pretty antsy. I decided to start walking, figuring I would meet Nicole on the way. Darren lives about 7 or 8 blocks North of us. I started down Victoria St towards my area of town. It was still completely blocked to traffic. It was a beautiful bright sunny day and the devastation seemed to be so much more magnified in the morning light. I was snapping pictures with my camera, my phone completely dead now. As I neared my corner and saw the church and the bank I felt that sense of anxiety rise in me again. I approached the OPP at my corner, pointed at my house and identified it as mine. I asked them if I could run in and grab my insurance information. They refused me. To my embarrasment, the tears rose up in me again and I couldn't stop them. I tearfully told them the forms I needed were right inside the front door in my living room and they could watch me the whole time.

"That house is not safe. We cannot allow you in there".
"What if one of you came with me? Then could I get them?"
The one OPP looked at me incredulously and said "I don't want to go anywhere near that house...it's not safe".

I was sobbing now.

"Well, how am I supposed to get my insurance info???"
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you in there"

I was angry with myself. Why didn't I get those stupid forms last night when I was in there with Patti and Barry?

I looked down at my camera and back up at the officer, ashamed at my blubbering.

"Can I at least take some pictures?"

They had no problem with that, as long as I stayed on the other side of my street. Even being on my own boulevard was too close. I walked up the road, my shoulders shaking with sobs, trying to look dignified. I knew they were just doing their jobs. The firemen were likely saying the same thing to people all over town.

It just sucked.

I stood there taking pictures for a few minutes and then headed on my way. I went back over to the OPP and asked him when we would be allowed in. He said it would have to be deemed structurally safe by the building inspector. I laughed at that, and told him the building inspector was my neighbour and was missing half of his own roof. He replied that he knew that, but that it didn't make a difference. I thanked him and kept walking.

The next place I stopped was Jodi's house. Jodi has looked after my kids for the last 6 years and has become one of my closest friends. She is 8 1/2 mos pregnant with her third child. I was worried about her the day before but Jeff had told me he had been talking to her yesterday and that they were fine. I walked up her steps and saw that she was missing her front screen door. I could see her sitting in her kitchen. She looked up when I knocked and as soon as I walked through her door the tears came again. She rushed over to me and I cried in her arms just like the little ones that do it with her everyday. Her husband and 2 sons joined us at the door and listened as I tried to get the words out. I had no filter infront of those 2 boys, ages 10 and 6. Jodi had a generator going so I sat down and plugged in my phone. She showed me the many pictures on facebook of the aftermath of the tornado. It was the first time I had seen pictures of the Salt Mine and The Square, our downtown core. I was stunned. There were no words. Once my phone came back to life it went off with messages from Jeff, Mike and Nicole, all wondering where I was. I told them where I was and they replied that Nicole had been looking all over for me.

I told Jodi I knew I needed to call insurance companies but didn't know the numbers. She pulled up a message that had been posted on facebook from my vehicle insurance company with 2 cell phone numbers to call with claim information. I called and spoke with a girl named Becky, who was an angel. I was tearful while on the phone with her, and when I told her my address she informed me that the people in that area were "a priority" and that she would get the ball rolling. Our home insurance was not with this company, but she offered to call them on my behalf to get the ball rolling there too.

Too bad I had no idea who my house insurance was with.

I stayed at Jodi's for quite awhile, talking with her and her husband, watching the clean up on her street and listening to her 2 boys who had it all worked out how my kids could stay there until we had things figured out. I told them I wasn't sure when my kids would be back from their grandma's, but they were already making big plans for when they returned. Jodi's husband Matt and I watched while entire trees were dragged behind machines down the street...quite a sight to see. Matt went to McDonalds to get us breakfast. It was hard for me to believe half of the town's hydro had already been restored, when the other half of town was in ruins. A couple of friends and Jeff's parents called my cell phone to check in. I tried getting ahold of Jeff to see where he was and what he was doing. He and Mike were at The Salt Mine, where the one fatality had occurred. Jeff explained to me what they were doing and the level of danger they were in. I was not comforted by this whatsoever. I didn't even tell Nicole, as I knew she wouldn't handle that information well either.

Eventually I wanted to go back to my street to see what was going on there, if anything had changed. Jodi wanted to come with me, so we walked the few blocks. She had already told me I could use her van, but I knew we wouldn't get a vehicle anywhere near our street.

When we got there, my street was filled with my neighbours coming in and out of their houses. The OPP that had been blocking my street since yesterday afternoon were gone. I wasn't sure if we were really supposed to be there or not, but now that we were, I wasn't leaving. I showed Jodi around and she was speechless.
Because the front door was now boarded shut, we entered the house through the back door, which meant we had to go through the back yard.

We had worked on our back yard for the past 5 years, building it up to something we were quite proud of. Now, it was all gone. I couldn't even see the magnolia tree, the fence had fallen on top of it. The pond was covered in debris. My hydrangea bushes, weigela bush, mini roses, and so much more, were ruined. It hurt. The neighbour's muskoka chair was in our backyard. The glass in the patio table was smashed into a million pieces. The gazebo that had been covering it, which we loved, was inpieces and had been thrown into the other fence. The gate to our fence was missing completely. There was debris in our backyard we didn't own or have any idea about where it came from. Jeff told me later there were parts of The Salt Mine in our backyard. The clothesline was across the yard. The telephone line was across the yard. There were tomatoes from my garden all over the yard. You couldn't even see the vegetable garden, it was buried under...stuff. And there, in the middle of it all, was an axe, laying across the handle to our push lawnmower. There was insulation everywhere you looked. And it wasn't from our house.

And yet the planters/potting bench that Jeff's dad had built for us last winter was sitting there untouched. I showed Jodi the inside of the house and she called her husband at home and said he needed to come over, that he wouldn't believe it and we needed help. I was so flustered I didn't even know what to do first. I wrote "I have access to the house!" as my facebook status, which again, set off a flood of responses. I had been in there what felt like 5 minutes, grabbed my insurance papers and a couple big suitcases, planning to load every stitch of clothing we owned into them, when I heard a male voice yelling from downstairs. I went down and saw Sheila's husband Jeff coming in my back door.

Sheila had saw my facebook status. That girl works fast.

He asked me what I needed and I threw my hands up and said I had no idea. I basically told him to treat it as if it were his own house. He said my roof needed to be tarped. He was going to go get supplies and would be back. Jodi said she would get her husband over to help him. He noticed my neighbour (building inspector) had a generator going, found some extension cords and plugged our house into it. Our freezer full of beef we had just got maybe a month ago would be okay now. Our fridge would be okay and we could charge our cell phones.

I called my home insurance broker, identified myself and said I needed someone to come have a look. The broker's office said they would call my insurance company and that someone would call me back very soon. I started loading clothes into the suitcase. I ran to the basement, which was still pitch black and fished out Makenna's birthday presents and the gifts I had bought for her cousins' birthdays. I started making piles in the front hallway of stuff to take with us.

The next little bit is blurry in my memory. Patti and Barry came, Jodi's husband came. Sheila came. I know there were others too. Sheila's and Jodi's husbands worked at tarping the roof. Sheila said her husband would be able to re hinge my front door and said she would get us a new lock for it.

I had never heard back from my home insurance company. I had called a second time and was again told someone would be contacting me very soon. When I called a third time and was told the person I needed to talk to was on her lunch break, I lost it.

I told her I didn't get a lunch break. That I didn't know how long I was allowed to be in the house, and whether or not I was allowed to touch anything or clean anything up. That I couldn't sleep there ever again and needed to get everything out of it but needed to know if they needed to see my house "as is" first. That I had been told twice that someone would be calling me "right back". That I was dealing with this alone as my husband was a fireman for the town and that I had no idea what the hell I was doing and needed some freaking help.

Then I apologized.
She put me on hold.

Crap. That's when I realized I was going to have to handle this whole thing like a Noble (my maiden name), not like a Wormington. I had seen and heard about my brother and father dealing with insurance companies in the past. I was going to have to get dirty and be a bitch.

Fantastic.

Then, the owner of the brokerage firm himself came on the phone.
Oh shit.

He spoke very calmly and courteously to me and told me everything I needed to know. Exactly how much we were insured for, that yes, I could get whatever I wanted, do whatever I wanted. That the claim adjuster had been notified, but was having trouble even finding our street.
Which I had no doubt was true.

He asked me if I needed money for a hotel, or what our accomodations were. I told him we were fine that way for now but that I knew this house would need to come down and that we would need long term accomodations. He assured me everything would be taken care of and from now on he would be my contact person until I had met with the adjuster in person. I thanked him and told him that was all I needed to know and didn't understand why someone couldn't have told me that 3 hours ago.

I hung up and went downstairs where Sheila was trying to look busy.

"I was just a real bitch there" I said.
"You had every right" she replied simply.

It was scorching hot outside I knew I was getting a sunburn, but had no idea where the sunscreen was. Jeff was still in a complicated mess at The Mine. He told me he was going to be relieved at 2pm and that he and Mike would come help me then.

At one point while outside, a reporter from The Globe and Mail came up and asked to interview me. The media presence was huge. There were big media trucks from every national TV station and many radio stations and newspapers everywhere in town, many parked in my immediate area. Helicopters and Airplanes were constantly overhead. Jeff had been interviewed by The London Free Press yesterday and here I was today with The Globe and Mail. Wait till my mom heard this.

The interview I did was posted on Youtube that evening.

My insurance adjuster arrived in the afternoon. While I was thrilled to see her, I was anxious because Jeff wasn't there. I had to do this alone. I had no idea what to do, what to say, what not to say, etc. I showed her around, starting with the backyard. That's when I noticed the slide was ripped off our kids' swingset. I hadn't seen it anywhere and had no idea where it was. The whole thing was just so unbelievable. She went through my house and I noticed then that in the living room, the ceiling had separated from the adjoining wall. You could stick your whole hand up in there into our bedroom. The force of that tornado, what it did to that wall, to the whole east side of my house, just boggled my mind. She decided to call in a structural engineer. That that person would come in and determine whether or not the house was structurally sound. If it wasn't, it would be condemned and need to come down. This structural engineer would decide whether our house would be repaired, or rebuilt.

Really? That was actually up for debate?

Our adjuster was a very kind, compassionate woman who lives here in town herself. She said to start making a list of contents that were damaged and destroyed. She confirmed our living arrangements and after a few minutes was off to her next house.

I hoped I had said and did the right things. I was pissed Jeff and Mike weren't there. Of course, about an hour later, they returned. When Mike heard about the engineer coming he said that without question he needed to be here when they arrived. I said that was just fine with me.

Our friends were still at our house. Jeff and Sheila had got a new lock for our front door and re hinged it by the time Jeff got back. Mike and Jeff had seen all the pictures I had taken of the house but now actually saw it with their own eyes. I kept waiting for Jeff to break down, especially after the morning he had had at The Mine, but he didn't. Mike, Patti and Sheila were making plans to empty my house the next morning. They all knew it would be condemned, and that once it was, we wouldn't be able to get anything out of it. The house 2 doors down from mine that had the funhouse stairs had already been condemned and that family lost everything in it. They weren't allowed anywhere near it.

Patti, Sheila and Mike's plans were like backround noise to me. I knew they were making them, they told me what I needed to do and how, and what they were going to do, and I heard every word, but none of it really hit me. They were talking at me, not with me. I looked Mike straight in the eye and told him I needed him to take over, that I couldn't do it.

Without hesitation, my little brother, 5 years younger than me, agreed.

Also in the backround were rumours that my dad was trying to book a flight home. Mike and Nicole had talked to him and were trying to convince him not to, that there was nothing he could do. I begged Mike to convince him to stay out west, even though I knew it would be ripping my dad in half that he was so far away.

My dad does not "do" helpless.

Eventually Nicole joined us at the house and saw the damage with her own eyes. She said she would take the next day off work to come up and help us pack everything up. Jeff and Mike had to return to the firehall so Nicole and I ate supper at the YMCA. We sat between OPP officers from Elgin County and Huron County and behind The Search and Rescue officers from Toronto. We ate chilli.

I hate chilli. But was never so grateful for chili in my life.

By now I had Jodi's van and had packed the stuff into it from this morning. I had toothbrushes. And makeup. And birthday presents. And School clothes. But the rest of my house was still inside my house. Plans had been made to clear it out the following morning.

From the YMCA we went to the firehall. By now I had heard our chief's house had been hit too and he didn't know if it would be repaired or rebuilt. He hadn't even been to it yet, as he was so busy dealing with our town's State of Emergency...National Disaster. We had just been to his home a few weeks earlier after our annual Fireman"s Breakfast. They have 4 kids. The back window had been blown out of his town truck and he was driving it around with the window taped up. He was doing a phenomenal job. He looked like hell.

I had received a call on my cell phone while we were there from the structural engineer saying she would be over to look at the house tomorrow. Mike said it was "go time" tomorrow morning - we had to get that house emptied before she got there. He would be there with his army by 8am. I called my mom and grandma from the firehall and was told that my cousin Ty and his fiancee had been out and bought my kids $200 worth of new clothes. My Dad's sister Dianne had bought them $100 in new clothes and my grandma's neighbour had bougth them $100 in new clothes. My mom's sister Dianne had also bought them various things. I was so overwhelmed at this I didn't know what to say or do.

We went to another firefighter's house on the side of town that had hydro once we left the hall. It was dark. We watched TV, I used their computer, Jeff showered. I just simply could not believe the two worlds existing within the same town. A bunch of other firefighters gathered at that home that evening and it seemed to be really good for them to be together in an informal environment like that, able to blow off some steam. Most of the wives were there too. It struck me again at this moment that we are all a family.

We really, truly are.

Once back at Darren's, still without hydro, still without Darren's wife and daughter, the guys were asleep in no time. I finally had a vehicle for myself now, and felt better about that. Jeff had to go to the hall in the morning, but then would be able to spend the day at our place helping pack it up. Mike and his army would be there at 8am, as well as our army of friends from town.

Tomorrow, I was going to pack my entire house into a 48 foot trailer, rushing against time to beat the arrival of the structural engineer, doubting very much my husband would actually be able to be there and help me.

Crap. I didn't even have any boxes.

Stay tuned!!

Sunday, August 21: Part 4.

2011-09-01T23:01:00.003-04:00

This is Part 4 to the story. To read the earlier entries about The Tornado, click here.

As I walked up to the entrance of the Knights of Columbus Hall (KOC) I saw one of the crisis responders sitting on the bench outside chatting with a group of people. I nodded to her and headed into the auditorium looking everywhere for Nicole, my sister in law. I finally made eye contact with her and headed over. There was a group of crisis responders standing together waiting for instructions. I told a couple people what had happened to our place and learned that the Executive Director of Victim Services had lost her home as well...and that she was in Pennsylvania at the moment. We were instructed just to mingle with people, offer our support, see where people were at, etc. I did that with my sister in law for about a half hour and had a bite to eat, the first in about 8 hours. I was texting and BBMing throughout this time as well. There weren't really a lot of people at KOC yet, I don't think a lot of people knew the Emergency Centre had been set up yet, or were able to get there. As time went on I could feel my anxiety building. I was so wrapped up in my own losses I couldn't focus on anyone else's. I went outside to call my mom and saw all the media cameras setting up for a 10pm News Conference. I checked in with my mom, who told me the kids were fine, everything on her end was fine. As I was outside on the phone with her I saw my friend Patti walk in. She is a nurse at the hospital and arrived in her scrubs. She lives one street over from me and it occured to me that her situation could very well be as bad as mine. I hung up with my mom and ran over to her. She had come because she was told to come there to learn whether or not she could get back into her house. She said thought her house was okay and knew her yard was a mess. We talked for a few minutes and she said she was heading to her sister's place in town. She stressed that if I needed anything to call or text her at any time. We hugged and she left. I hung around the KOC for awhile longer, not doing any real "work". I followed Nicole around, listened to people and kept checking my phone. At one point I saw the mayor walk through. All the major meetings were being held, on pretty much an hourly basis, behind closed doors at KOC. The mayor walked through the room, pale and visibly shaken. I had to smile at the hard hat he was wearing.

He was wearing a hard hat, inside our emergency shelter. No one working outside was wearing a hard hat, other than the firemen with their helmets. I did feel for him though. What a mess he was in...how was he supposed to know how to handle this?

The panic started to build within me as it got dark outside. It had been a few hours now since I had heard from Jeff or Mike. My texts and BBMs were going unanswered. It was dark and my house was sitting wide open. I wasn't stupid enough to think looters weren't going to be an issue. I had no front door. My house was right by a busy intersection. My purse was in there. Our wedding rings (Jeff never wears his and I had taken mine off to wash the dishes earlier in the day) were in there. Our entire life was in that house and the house was wide open. Anyone could walk right in. Jeff wasn't available to take care of this. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I looked over at Nicole. She was busy doing what she was supposed to do. I had no vehicle there. I wasn't about to walk all the way across town in the dark and then all the way back, myself. I needed to get to my house. Jeff still wasn't answering me.

So I called Patti. I told her how I felt. She could hear the panic in my voice and told me she and Barry (her boyfriend) would be right over. They would pick me up and we would go to my house. She wanted to go to her house too. I walked outside and waited. I didn't even think to tell Nicole I was leaving.
It was dark outside. No hydro throughout town at night makes it very very dark. There were police and fire lights going everywhere, but not as many sirens. I could still hear them in my head though. I chatted with a police officer while I waited for Patti and Barry to pull up.

Getting to our side of town was an adventure in itself. If the roads weren't blocked by fallen trees they were blocked by police barricades. We went around a few things, took some back streets, wove the vehicle around various obstacles and made it to Patti and Barry's driveway. We went into their pitch black house and I waited while she tried to find some flashlights, organize a few things and figure out what she needed for the night. I looked at her patio door which looks out into her backyard and there was stuff piled right up against it - I couldn't even see out the door there was so much stuff on the other side of it, blown there by the tornado. Once we loaded her vehicle with the stuff she grabbed from her house, we decided it would be best to walk around the block to my house, not drive. We discussed how we were going to convince the OPP to let us down my street. I had my Victim Services ID on, she had her hospital scrubs on, and Barry was our bodyguard. We met 2 officers at my corner. Patti walked up to them and asked if I could get some stuff out of my house. Barry just walked right by them. They said it was no problem and let us by. I was so so so relieved. But at the same time we wondered "What if we didn't live here? anyone could walk right in it seems."
When we got to my front porch, Barry saw that there was no front door and said "Well, you can't have that".

No kidding.

So that guy went into my garage, which was a war zone in itself, used a flashlight and found Jeff's drill amongst all the damage and debris, grabbed a piece of wood from somewhere, came inside and boarded my front door shut. All by flashlight.

I needed some running shoes. This entire time I had been walking around in flip flops. My feet hurt. The shoes had all been sitting by the front door and had been blown throughout the main floor of my house. It was difficult to find a match. I showed them how the wall had pulled away from the roof upstairs as I got some socks of my own. Patti and Barry couldn't believe it and Barry said the house would have to come down. I stuffed my laptop and my cell phone chargers into a small suitcase with a change of clothes in it for both Jeff and I, as well as some PJs and more socks. I found my purse, wedding rings, passports and other important documents and put them all in the suitcase. My eyes filled when I saw Makenna's Nintendo DS. I should have sent it with her and cursed myself for not doing so. It would give her comfort. I grabbed it and all the games and threw it into my purse too. I didn't know when I was going to see her again, but I knew she would want it. That huuuuuuge bag of flour was still sitting on the table. The steaks were still sitting on the counter. I realized I had no idea where our cat was. At one point earlier in the day I had seen him sitting on the front porch, but I couldn't get on the street at that point. I figured that cat was gone forever and worried about how to tell the kids that. I sat in the hallway in the middle of the leaves and stones and glass and put on my running shoes while Barry made sure the door was secure. The whole scene was surreal. As I sit here writing this, I asked Jeff where Barry got the piece of wood from to board up the door, and Jeff said he never even saw it boarded up. He missed so much of what went on with our house. So many times I have mentioned something from that first day, and he has no idea what I am talking about because he simply wasn't there. He was taking care of the rest of the town.

He finally texted me that he and Mike, among others, were searching buildings one by one for people who may be trapped. I was so grateful to have finally heard from them, but didn't feel much better about what they were doing. So many of the buildings in town were structurally unsound and in danger of falling down, it wasn't very comforting to know that both my husband and brother were entering them, over and over again.

He sent me a message telling me they were returning to the hall so I told him I would meet him there. Patti and Barry dropped me off at the firehall and in I walked with my small suitcase. There were firemen from all different departments everywhere. Patti said she would go to KOC to get my backpack and bring it back to me. She was going to drop some diapers off there as a donation anyway.

I felt home. Finally safe, with Jeff and Mike, surrounded by others who knew us, how bad it was, knew how bad our situation was. Many of the GFD men came and hugged me. All of the firefighters from the various departments were formulating a plan for the next day. I went into the radio room to talk to the firefighter who had been on dispatch all day - coordinating services and communicating with everyone. I asked him what the call originally came in as...when the pagers first went off and he entered the hall and picked up the phone, what did they tell him?

They told him there was an auto alarm going off at Victoria St United Church. That was the inital call. That was what the guys on the other side of town who had no damage from the "storm" thought they were responding to until they got to the 5 Points and saw what they were really dealing with. An automatic alarm. That was the church just around the corner from our house. The church that was missing its roof and had a huge hole through the side of it.

Patti returned to the hall with my backpack and mingled with the firemen that she knew, still in her scrubs. It was almost 1:30am. The Goderich firemen were told to go home and get some rest before returning by 6am. Firemen from other departments would be staying to "guard the town" throughout the night. My brother and his colleagues from Brussels left, promising to be back for 6am, despite being told they didn't have to. Jeff, Darren and I got into Darren's truck and headed for his place. The town was so dark, so quiet. We drove slowly through town with his green firelight flashing so we could take a direct route and go around the barricades without being questioned. As we got out of his truck at his house, a pick up truck drove slowly by. There were 2 firemen in full bunker gear standing in the box of the truck shining flashlights down both sides of the street as they drove by. i don't think I will ever forget that image.

Just like a warzone. Straight out of a movie.
This is something else, I thought.

We went upstairs and fell into bed, none of us expecting to get much sleep. Our bodies were exhausted but our minds were racing. Jeff's heels had huge blisters on them from all that time he spent running around in barefeet and workboots. I was on my phone for quite awhile, texting, BBMing and on facebook. Nicole had said she was coming back into town the next morning to work with Victim Services again and would pick me up at 8am. I finally turned my phone off and put it under my pillow. It was almost 3am. I listened to Jeff sleeping beside me and wondered what kind of horrors he had seen throughout the day. Horrors he would never tell me about. I thought about my kids sleeping in another house in another town and wondered when we could possibly be stable enough to bring them back to town. I thought about the house we were staying at now and how that was possibly going to work long term. I wondered if Darren had even told his wife yet. She and their daughter had left town for a few days to escape the madness. I realized I had never contacted my dad and he had never sent me another message. Someone must have told him by now. I couldn't bare the thought of telling him. I thought about what I was going to do tomorrow. I needed to get back to the house and figure out what to do with it. I needed to call insurance companies and all of their contact info was inside the house. The house that now had a board drilled across the front door to prevent looters from entering it. I wondered how on Earth I was going to deal with all of this while Jeff was working as a Firefighter all day tomorrow, dealing with who knows what.

We had just survived a tornado, the one thing I have always been terrified of. Where were we supposed to go from here?

It took me 4 posts to feel I have accurately blogged my interpretation of "Day 1". I know I have forgotten things I wish I didn't, and mixed up some things and may have some stuff out of order. It has been a week and a half since the tornado and some details have gone fuzzy. That annoys me. What you have read thus far is just the beginning. The story continues...keep checking back!

Sunday, August 21: Part 3

2011-08-31T13:56:00.009-04:00

To read Part 1, click here.
To read Part 2, click here.

I had to pee.
It was just after 6pm, 2 hours had passed since the tornado hit, and now that I was alone and could actually focus on myself, that was the first thing I felt. The immediate need to use the bathroom.

All of the stores and businesses were abandoned and locked. I was not going behind a store like I had forced my kids to do. I couldn't go back home to use my bathroom, I couldn't physically get there.

I realized I wasn't far from my friend Sheila's house and set off towards it, hoping she was home. I made it pretty far down the street before I realized it wasn't her street I was even on. As I was walking, people were raking up their lawns, bringing the small tree branches to the curbs and commenting that they "had just about got it all". They were sweating, wiping their brows. I wanted to scream at them.

Did they really have no idea what was happening in their own town just a few blocks away? That people had 100 year old trees through their homes? That people's homes had been blown apart and spread all over the neighbourhoods? That I wasn't allowed anywhere near my own home because of a major gas leak, and even if I was, I would never find a rake? Were they really that concerned about some fucking twigs on their lawns???

But I kept walking. I finally got on the right street and made it to Sheila's house. Her youngest daughter met me at the door.

"Is your mom home?"
"No". Then her oldest son joined her at the door. All of her 4 kids recognized me, but her two boys don't know me all that well.
"Is your dad home?"
"No".
"Do you know where they are?"
"No"
"Okay, well I need to use your bathroom".

Her oldest son was unsure about this, but I walked in anyway. When I left I told him to tell his mom I had been there. As I walked down the steps I saw Sheila across the road looking at me. I walked over and told her I used her bathroom and she laughed. We talked for a minute and I said something about my house and cars and she just looked at me blankly. I then explained what was going on on my block, which was only about 4 blocks away from hers. She had no idea and couldn't believe it. My phone was almost dead and I was panicking because that was my lifeline at that moment, my way to keep in touch with Jeff and Mike, my mom and everyone else. Jeff had given me his phone when I last saw him and told him mine was almost dead. He said I could use his and if I needed to get in touch with him I could text my brother's phone and he would be able to communicate with me that way. Sheila told me her neighbours had a generator going and I could plug my phone in at their place to charge it. She ran over to her house to get her husband's charger, as I obviously didn't have mine.

Sheila's neighbour is the older sister of a guy I was friends with all through highschool. We chatted about that for a few minutes while plugging my phone in and then Sheila and I went back outside. She told me to come over to her place but I said I needed to go find Jeff. I could not just sit. I needed to be moving. She said she was likely going to take her kids out of town, so if, when I came back for my phone she was gone, I was to just go over to the neighbour's and ask for it.

She repeated about a zillion offers of help and asked what she could do and I said I had no idea at that point, I just wanted to talk to Jeff and see what the story was. Find out when this was all going to calm down.

I walked away from her and headed off into the jungle that was now my side of town to try to find my husband, hoping he was still at the corner of St David and Cambria Streets. Of course he wasn't.

I had a lot of time to think about and process what was going on around me as I was looking for Jeff.

Makenna's family birthday party was next weekend. I had insisted on having it at our home. While sitting by the firetruck she had mentioned that, saying she hoped everything was better by Saturday for the party. She had planned all these games for it. But that it was almost a week away so she was sure everything would be better by then. How was I supposed to tell her there was no way that party would be held at our house? We would have to have it at Jeff's parents farm. The kid had no house, no cars, I had no idea if she even had a school at that point... the least she deserved was a birthday party.

Crap. Her birthday presents were all in the house. I would have to get them out. All her school stuff and new clothes were in there too. I had to get those too. How was I going to do that with all those Cops blocking access?

Someone had said something about an Emergency Centre being set up at the Knights of Columbus Hall across town. I bet Victim Services will be there. I am a Crisis Responder for Victim Services. I should go there. They are going to need everyone they have. This would be my first official call. They always said you would remember your first call.

Yep, think I'll remember this one.

Well, I need my Victim Services backpack and ID. Its in my van. How am I supposed to get that?

I headed back towards my street. There were OPP blocking it, refusing to allow anyone near it, whether they lived there or not. So I walked. I walked and walked and walked around our neighbourhood. I took in the devastation. I had grabbed my camera when I was in the house one of the other times and started taking pictures with it. Mostly I just walked in big circles around the same area, taking it all in. I talked with people I knew, all of them stunned by what we all saw. I kept saying "What do we do? What can we even do?" referring to our house, our cars, our street, our town. Where do you start??

As I walked back by Volvo, a major employer in our town that had shut down a few years earlier, I was stupified by the damage to its building. The car wash across the road was leveled. I couldn't believe it. Out of nowhere my friends Chris and Jen drove by, noticed me and circled back. When I told them what had happened to our street Jen's eyes filled with tears. She couldn't believe our house was as bad as I said it was, and that there were worse ones just steps away from it. I was on and off Jeff's phone at that point, talked to them for a couple minutes and kept walking. At one point I checked Jeff's texts and saw that he had been texting his brother, but the conversation had halted when he had given me his phone. I called Kevin and my voice shook as I was talking to him. I don't know what Jeff had told him, but Kevin had no idea things were as bad as they were. He said he knew our street was in bad shape and that our vehicles were wrecked, but that he had no idea about our house.

Of course not, I realized. Jeff wouldn't have told him that, because Jeff didn't even know that.

So I tried to explain to Kevin what we were dealing with. I knew we could never live in that house again. I knew that house needed to come down. I didn't know where we were going to sleep that night, or any night after that...if we even got to sleep tonight at all. I had texts and messages from 20 different people saying we could stay with them, but I had no idea when the fire department would get a break, and if we would even end up at the same place. I had no vehicle to get anywhere.

Kevin was stunned. I was frustrated and snapped "Hello?? Have you not been on facebook?!"

He replied that no he hadn't because they had lost their internet connection during the thunderstorm. They live about 40 mins away. So I told him he needed to call his parents and tell them. They were enjoying a weekend away in the Sauble Beach area. He wasn't sure it was necessary to tell them and I assured him it absolutely was. I told him to also call his sister who lives in Kitchener. I think he started to understand the urgency and panic in my voice and then realized that I was alone and Jeff was dealing with something huge. Kevin used to be a firefighter himself. He asked me if I needed him to come up. I told him he wouldn't get into town anyway so there was no use even trying. He asked me a few more times, I assured him I would be fine and he had me promise to call him if I needed anything. He promised he would call his parents and their sister.

Not long after that, Jeff's mom called Jeff's phone, which I still had. Kevin had notified them. They were prepared to leave Sauble Beach and come to help. I told them not to, there was nothing they could do and no way they could get into town. I told her we would need help in the coming days, but there was no use today. I tried to explain what was happening and assured her we were fine. I insisted we were still having the birthday party, at their place, and that was all I knew at that point.

At this point I was on my way back to Sheila's to get my own phone. Jeff texted me that he and Mike were at the major intersection in town, which we locals call "The 5 Points". I told him I was going to get my phone and would be there in a bit. Sheila's van was gone. I knew she had taken her kids to her family in the next town and went over to her neighbour's to retrieve my phone.
There were dozens of messages, texts and facebook comments on it. I started to answer them as I walked. Jeff's sister had BBMd me..."Is your house really destroyed?"

Arrrrrgggghhhhh! Yesssssss!!!!! Yes it was!

Clearly, people had no idea what we were dealing with. That would soon change though. The air was filled with the wail of sirens everywhere I went and now there were airplanes and helicopters in the air every time I looked up. The media were moving in.

The "5 points" are a block from my house, the next street over from mine. I was able to enter my street the back way and wove my way down it, climbing over trees, downed fences and over all other kinds of fallen debris covering the sidewalk. I followed the path of a guy infront of me who was also trying to get down the same street. He saw me but we never spoke. I BBMd Jeff to tell him what I was doing and he called the cell phone so he could yell at me directly. I told him I needed some stuff and was fine, to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. My brother got on the phone and told me his wife, my sister in law, was at The Knights of Columbus Hall. She is a Crisis Responder for Victim Services too. I told him I planned to go there too and would see them in a couple minutes. I crawled through the van and got my Victim Services Backpack. I grabbed Jeff's wallet and keys out of his truck, stood the storm door up against the doorway to our house again and went and hid my purse in the basement. I came back outside,put my Victim Services ID on, crossed the street and walked through the backyard of Paint Plus and the Union Burger Parking lot towards the 5 Points. A calm came over me as I knew I had a purpose now. It was time to go to work as a Crisis Responder. To put my training into action. I felt useful. I could see my husband and brother looking at me, waving their arms and yelling at me as I got closer.

"I needed to get my backpack" I said simply.
"You're the victim here!" My husband laughed.
"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" I retorted.

He asked me how I was going to get to the Knights of Columbus Hall across town and I said I was going to walk. He didn't like that either but wasn't able to drive me so I didn't have much of a choice. I told him I had been walking all day and was fine. I gave him back his phone and was on my way.

I walked about a block and came to another GFD firetruck that looked like it was about to leave. I made eye contact with Darren, another Captain on the Dept and the father of one of Makenna's closest friends. It was the first time I had seen him. He asked me what I was doing and when I told him he told me to get in the truck.

Ordered me, really.

When I climbed into the truck and sat down, Darren looked at me and said "You're living with us".
I opened my mouth to say something and he said "I've seen your house, already talked to Jeff, I don't want to hear it, you're living with me. As of right now".

I closed my mouth.

I sat in the front seat of the truck between Darren and another fireman as they returned to the hall. He told me that when the tornado initially hit, he, his wife and daughter had been in Stratford. When they were notified and rushed back, he first had went to a fire in Benmiller, a result of the tornado touching down there too. I didn't even know that initially 7 of the firemen had to go to Benmiller, that they couldn't even respond the the town's devastation. I asked him who was "In Command".

The Fire Dept has a hierarchy of command. It starts with the Chief, then the Deputy Chief, then the Captains. Our department has 4 captains, Jeff and Darren being 2 of them. Those 6 people are "officers". Whichever officer is on scene first is "in command"...essentially in charge of the whole show.

Darren informed me that both the chief and deputy chief were out of town, he had been in Stratford and that as far as he knew, Jeff and one other Captain were the only officers in town when the pagers went off. The other Captain, John Dobie, was currently the officer in command.

In command of the aftermath of a tornado. A big tornado. A first for our town, our EMS personelle. He had set up his command post at The 5 Points and had big boards sitting on the ground leaning against the truck with writing, maps and other stuff all over them. Darren said he was doing really well.

I could not imagine what my husband would have been like if he had of been able to get to the hall first and had of been in command. Our chief had been notified and was on his way back from Michigan.

I should mention here too, that by now, Fire trucks had arrived from every single Huron County Dept except for one. The Howick Department did not respond as they were almost an hour away and were told to remain where they were to help cover other areas should they have their own calls to deal with. Trucks had also arrived from Walkerton, Hanover and Lucknow. They had received word that a specialized unit from Toronto was on its way.

Once the truck I was in returned to the hall, I got out and walked to the Knights of Columbus Hall which wasn't very far away. I was ready to work. Ready to help. Ready to support the victims.

Because after all, I was just fine.

This story is far from over. Keep checking back!

Tornado: Sunday August 21 2011 Part 2.

2011-08-30T21:41:00.004-04:00

This is part 2 to the story. To read part 1, click here.

I saw people running up and down our street checking on the other homes. I looked and saw that the home 2 doors down from me was badly damaged, like it was about to fall onto its side. The woman living in that house had been Makenna's Sparks Leader a couple of years ago. I didn't see her on the street anywhere. I ran towards her house, keeping my eyes down to ensure I didn't trip over the downed trees, phone and hydro lines. When I reached her front door a guy I didn't know was there pounding on it, yelling for anyone inside to answer it. When no one answered he broke the door down and we both rushed in. He told me to go upstairs and said he would check downstairs. I hurried my way up the stairs, which were leaning on a steep angle, sideways, like in a funhouse. I was yelling out her name as I went and when I reached the top of her stairs I stopped dead and stared...

What the hell happened here? Could it be...???

Her entire upper floor was gone. No roof, no walls, no rooms, no nothing. I was standing level with the sky, everything else was gone. I hurried back downstairs, told the guy she wasn't up there and he said he couldn't find anyone downstairs either. He left and ran on to the next house, I ran back towards my own.

I have been terrified at the thought of tornadoes for years. I even blogged about that here once. Did we just have a tornado? It couldn't have been...right? We had no warning. We didn't see a funnel cloud. It was justa bunch of rain and hail and...and our basement stood up just fine. We didn't even know how bad it was until we stepped outside. But looking around, this was like nothing I had ever seen before. The windows in the bank were all blown out. Part of the wall fell down onto a car in the parking lot. The church roof was...just...gone. There was a camping trailer flipped up on its side and resting against a hydro pole. This was all just right in my immediate area.

Did a tornado, the one thing I have always been so afraid of, just take out my street?

This is not a good day to have a fireman for a husband.

I needed to get ahold of my mom. Partly to tell her before she heard it on the news, partly to get her to come get the kids, partly just so I could anchor to someone. My phone would not call or text out. I saw my neighbour on her cell phone and when she was done I begged to call out on it. It took about 3 tries, but finally the call went through. I was standing infront of the Paint Plus store when she answered.

"Mom...there's been a tornado here...it's really really bad"...I said tearfully. I had to repeat myself a few times as she couldn't hear clearly over all the sirens and commotion around me. I knew by now that it had been a tornado because one of the first firemen on scene, a friend of mine, had said the word, and told me a State of Emergency had been declared for the town. He said the Salt Mine, our biggest employer, and our downtown business core had both been destroyed. I couldn't comprehend what that even meant. How could that be?

My mom was in tears immediately and told me she was on her way...it would take her about an hour to get from where she was to where I was. I assured her we were fine, told her I didn't know where Jeff was but that he was with the Fire Dept, that the kids were safe, but I thought our house was badly damaged and knew our vehicles were written off. She was shocked by what I was saying. I hung up and gave the phone back to my neighbour. Mine still wouldn't work.

I talked to the local firemen who had stationed themselves at my corner and watched them try to control our area. I remember when they first arrived, seeing one GFD truck pull to a stop at my corner, while another sped on by it and still another headed in a third direction towards our downtown area. Police Cars were screaming by in all different directions too. I remember thinking, "These poor guys have no idea where to go or what to do...how are they going to handle this?"

Every GFD firefighter that got out of that truck at the corner two houses away from my house came over to me, checked in with me and looked at my house in disbelief. Half the roof was ripped off, the front porch was gone, and it looked like a machine gun had had its way with the side of the house. There was a tree burying the back half of Jeff's truck, and my van right infront of it had been turned so that the front half waswedged into our garage and the back half wedged into the fence. There wasn't a window left in either one of them and there was insulation from someone's home throughout both of them. Our entire street was in shambles. I remember hearing over the fire radio that all the guys use to communicate with eachother "Wormy's (Jeff's nickname) house is gone".

I turned and saw my cowboy firefighter running down the far end of the street towards us, still in barefeet and workboots, shorts and a t shirt. One of the guys handed him a radio and he clipped it to his shirt. He was told he was in charge of our street. He disappeared again, with the task of entering every home on Park Street, making sure every occupant was out and safe. It wasn't long until the smell of gas filled the air. My neighbours and I started commenting..."Do you smell that? Is it gas?" The further down our street you went towards Cambria Road, the worse the smell was...enough to make you physically nauseous. And there my husband and father of my children was, somewhere in the middle of it.

By now I was recieving BBM messages and texts from people across town, wondering if we were okay, commenting on the storm. The other side of town was untouched. My brother though, who lived 45 mins away, had heard the reality on his fire scanner and was texting me every 5 seconds, demanding I call him right now. My responses wouldn't go through and when he wasn't hearing back from me he started capitalizing all of his texts and using lots of exclamation points. I was typing responses, but they weren't going though. I knew my brother would be losing his mind at this point and there was nothing I could do. I knew he would have heard about it through his fire scanner. I started taking pictures with my phone and uploading them to facebook to let people know we were okay.

Of course that worked no problem, you can always count on facebook! That set off a flood of comments and messages, texts and bbms to my phone from people out of town, that I still couldn't respond to. All I could do was keep uploading pictures with comments on them. So I did. My sister in law was bbming me telling to to figure out a way to call my brother before he had a stroke, but I couldn't. I recieved a bbm from my dad, all the way out in Alberta..."Hey...what's going on?" I started to cry again, wondering if he knew, and how, or was just asking a general question. I couldn't respond to him either, which was actually a good thing, because I didn't know what he would do when he heard and didn't want to deal with trying to calm him down across the country. I assumed my mom would get ahold of him.

Jeff came back to me again telling me and the other firemen about gas that was leaking and spewing out into the air half a block back. He was panicked. Someone had left to get his bunker gear for him. He yelled at me to go back into the house and get him some socks. Other firemen there asked me to get them some as well. I ran back into the house and was confronted head on with the reality. There was no front door. I tried to stand it back up to block the entrance to our home. There was broken glass everywhere. I ran upstairs to get the socks and when I entered our bedroom I stopped so fast I almost fell over. I could see the sky. The whole side wall right beside Jeff's dresser that the socks were in had pulled away from the house...the entire east wall of our house was barely even there, hanging on by a thread. I grabbed a handful of socks, ran down the stairs and out the "door". Jeff grabbed the socks from me and before I could even tell him about the wall, he was gone again. I looked at one of his close friends, another firefighter, and told him about it. As he ran off in another direction he looked back at me, looked me in the eye and said "Don't you worry, we're going to build you a brand new one!"

I was finally able to use BBM on my phone and had at least 20 messages. I got ahold of my brother, who I thought was going to come through the phone when he heard my voice. He told me he was on his way, in his bunker gear. He asked where Jeff was and I told him I had no idea. He said he was going right to the firehall and that he would get to my street as soon as he could. I told him I had called mom and she was coming to get the kids.

The Kids!

I went back over to my neighbour's and down into their basement. The kids were playing away, oblivious to everything happening. I gathered them up and took them outside. We sat down beside the firetruck to wait for my mom. We weren't there long before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and came face to face with my little brother. Mike was stunned but trying to hide it. He made sure we were okay and turned to look at my house. He walked towards it, came back and told me he had to go find Jeff. And then he was gone. A short time later, Lynn, who owns the Carlow Mercantile, saw us and sat down with us. I explained what was going on with my mom and then realized I had nothing for the kids to take with them. Lynn said she would watch them as I gathered a few things. I ran back into the house and into Makenna's room. The whole east wall had separated in her room as well, and out her window I could see the chimney had fallen onto the garage roof. The screen had blown out of her window but the window itself was fine. I closed it. I grabbed 2 pairs of clothes and a pair of Pjs for her, stuffed them into the suitcase and ran into Jack's room. His entire window had shattered onto his bedroom floor. There was glass everywhere. I stepped over the glass and grabbed the entire pkg of pull ups and 2 changes of clothes for him too. I looked back at his bed...it seemed okay, other than some leaves and stuff on it...

Jeez...what if he still had of been napping?

I ran back outside with the suitcase and saw Lynn point me out to the kids. There she was, a woman they had never seen before, sitting with my kids at the corner, surrounding by EMS and neighbours, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked over at the vehicles and saw the carseats inside.

Crap. Kids need carseats. My mom didn't have them in her van. Was I supposed to use these ones? A freaken tornado had just literally went through the vehicles they were in. You can't use car seats after they have been involved in a car accident...but they were going to be driving for an hour...they couldn't not have them...Jack especially...

So, I climbed into our truck, amongst all the broken glass and debris, unhooked the 5 point harness seat and the booster seat and dragged them along with the suitcase to the corner where the kids were waiting with Lynn. I texted my mom, who replied that she was at the bridge that enters our town and they wouldn't let her in any further. I asked a couple police officers if they would drive us out to meet her and they said they couldn't. At that point because of the worsening gas leaks and multiple unsafe buildings threatening to fall down infront of us, they started evacuating our area, pushing us back a full block. Another block further away from where my mom was. I had 2 kids, 2 carseats, and a suitcase. Lynn promised to stay with me until I found my mom.

At this point, after we had been pushed a block away from our house, both kids announced they had to go to the bathroom. I wanted to scream and cry. I had no choice but to take them behind one of the stores and have them pee outside there while Lynn waited at the corner with our stuff. My 3 year old son thought this was fantastic. My poor 6 year old daughter had no idea what she was doing and peed all over her shorts. I was angry and frustrated. Now she was stuck in wet shorts. Thankfully her Tshirt was long so no one else noticed. We met Lynn back at the corner. My mom texted that she was walking in, despite me telling her repeatedly I had no way of getting to her. Lynn suggested we walk around the back way. We headed down Elgin St, past KFC to Picton St. I think. All the while Makenna struggling to pull the suitcase behind her, me carrying the carseats, Lynn carrying Jack. We cut across the yard that the lumberyard was in. That lumberyard had been blown apart. Everything was everywhere and there we were trudging through the middle of it. I was starting to realize how bad this was. After what felt like forever We ended up back at the corner of Park and Cambria streets and my mom texted that she was at thje corner of East and Victoria - the farthest she could get. Anything further up had been evacuated. I told her to start heading East on East st. Jack told Lynn his mommy was a better carrier and he wanted his mommy to carry him now, so I traded the carseats for Jack. Our streets were literally impassible at this point. We climbed over tree trunks, weaved our way around and through bushes, all the while telling the kids it was a huge crazy adventure. The thought crossed my mind that my daughter was not going to handle all this well once the crisis mode had passed. Lynn and I were awestruck by the devastation and couldn't believe we were having trouble deciphering where we were. I was about a block away from my house and couldn't even tell. We were trying to get through this really thick area of fallen trees on someone's front yard and Lynn lost her sandal. My mom texted me that she was one street over from where I was. She was at the corner of St David and Cambria Streets. I told her not to move. A minute later I saw her boyfriend, and then I could see her walking further up the street with a fireman. I yelled "HEY!" and she and the fireman both turned at the noise.

My mom and the fireman came running towards us.

The fireman, now in full bunker gear and in full work mode, was my husband.
Where the hell was my brother?

Jeff said he had seen him and knew where he was. My mom bear hugged all of us. We stood there for a couple minutes catching our breath and discussing everything. My mom really wanted to walk to our street, one block away, to see the house and take pictures.

Yep, that's my mom.

Jeff and I both told her there was no way that was happening.

So there we were, we had gotten the kids to her, and her van was still a couple of kilometers away.

Lynn to the rescue again. Her vehicle was parked at a plaza a few blocks away. she said she would load my mom, her boyfriend and the kids into her vehicle and drive them out of town to where my mom's van was. Jeff said they were letting people out of town, but not in, so that would work. He told me I was going too.

No way in hell was I leaving town.

So, Lynn, the kids, my mom, her boyfriend and I started walking the few blocks towards the plaza her vehicle was at. I could not believe that just a few blocks north of mine, eveything was relatively untouched. A few tree limbs down here and there but nothing compared to my street. We passed a number of people I knew on the street. We ran into the mom of one of Makenna's friends. When I told her about our house she didn't believe me at first. Her eyes filled with tears as we walked away. We reached Lynn's vehicle and loaded the carseats. I still wasn't sure I should use them, but didn't know what else to do. The kids got in, I kissed them both goodbye and told them both to be good. It had started to rain again. Lynn gave me a sweater and my mom's boyfriend gave me his jacket. He asked me if I needed any cash and I replied no, and that even if I did I couldn't spend it anywhere anyway. I said goodbye to my mom, told her about Makenna's shorts, told her to get ahold of Dad and Grandma and she said that she would. She told the kids they were going to go to Gran's for supper. My mom tried to convince me to come too, but there was no way I was leaving town. Lynn drove them away, and I didn't know it then, but that was the last I would see of my kids for days. Much longer than I thought when I was standing there saying goodbye. I put on Paul's jacket and stood there in the rain for a minute...looking around.

Now what?

Tornado: Sunday August 21 - Part 1.

2011-08-29T22:53:00.003-04:00

Sunday August 21...

I spent the morning making chocolate chip cookie dough truffles for my cousin's upcoming wedding. I had to go to the grocery store late morning to get more supplies, including a huuuuuuuge bag of flour. It was so big it wouldn't fit in my pantry, so I just left it on the kitchen table for the afternoon. Jeff went to the firehall to wash and clean out his truck, and was annoyed when it later rained in the early afternoon, leaving fresh water spots all over it. I told him he was way too attached to that truck. But that I loved it too. I made a mental note to order chrome door handles for it for his upcoming birthday.

My 3 year old son napped for only about an hour, awake by 2ish. The days are so long when he takes short naps, or no nap at all. But he is 3 1/2. He played on and off while I kept baking, finishing 230 of the required 450 truffles that afternoon. I wrapped them up tight and made room in my freezers for them. Jeff decided to barbecue steaks for supper. As it had been raining on and and off all day he checked the weather radar online at 3:30 pm to make sure he wasn't going to get wet out at the BBQ.

The radar was clear.
He unwrapped the steaks and put them on a plate on the counter to thaw a bit.

Makenna and Jack were making playdoh cookies in our living room. I was in the basement sorting through clothes that were too small for the kids and cleaning up the toyroom. I had filled an industrial sized garbage bag of clothes for a friend's son. I asked Jeff to put the bag in the van for me and he took it out to the front porch, assuring me he would walk it the extra 10 feet to the van later. Jack came downstairs to where I was and kept asking and asking and asking if he could play Wii. I was putting the Little People away and Jeff said it was up to me whether or not Jack played any more Wii that day.

He is only 3 after all.

I sighed and said I didn't care, that I was tired of listening to him whine. Jeff pulled the futon away from the wall in our basement, looking for a lost DS game, before setting up the wii. As he was about to turn it on, the power went out. I thought that was odd, as it wasn't even storming, and figured maybe there had been a car accident, and expected Jeff's fire pager to go off at any moment. Jack started crying because all he wanted to do was play that damned Wii, was finally given permission, and now he couldn't.

I sighed, sat down on the basement steps and gave him a hug, telling him we would just have to wait till the power came back on. Jeff walked upstairs. I looked at the clock...almost 4pm. Still a couple hours to kill before supper and bath time.

The next thing I knew, not even 3o seconds later, Makenna was barreling down the basement stairs towards me where I was still sitting, Jeff right behind her. Out of nowhere, we could hear heavy rains and hail outside. I looked at Jeff and he said "go into the storage room".

As he said that, suddenly the rain and wind got very very very loud in our basement. It was pounding on the outside walls. It was so very loud. Jack started screaming, Makenna started panicking. I crouched down in the stairwell with Jack in my arms, Makenna between Jeff and I and I said "don't move". I looked across the room to our small basement window. All I saw outside of it was white. It was like there was a snowsquall outside - I couldn't see a thing. Above us I could hear things snapping and cracking and hear glass breaking.

The noise was deafening. All of this, we later learned, spanned 10-12 seconds. I remember every single one.

Then it stopped as quickly as it came. All was quiet again. Jeff's pager went off and I cursed it. Figuring this "thunderstorm" had caused a car accident or downed a hydro line. He ran the rest of the way upstairs out of the basement to go outside and before the rest of us could even follow he yelled at us to stay where we were. Of course I didn't listen.

The basement was absolutely fine, we were fine, it was over so quick, how bad could it be? Stupid thunderstorm scaring my kids.

I peeked around the top of the basement stairs into our front hall and came face to face with the front door to our house, the storm door, laying right there on the floor infront of me, as well as leaves, dirt, stones and just...debris. I could see the screen door outside on the porch. It was still pouring rain. I saw that our living room window was smashed.

Jeff came running back into the house, his pager still wailing, yelling at me to take the kids back into the basement. His face was white and his eyes were wild...he was looking everywhere but at me. I couldn't even speak. I grabbed my cell phone off the couch, looked at him and said "Go! We're fine!"...(or something like that) and he ran back outside.

I took the kids back down to the laundry room in the basement, sat on the concrete floor with Jack in my lap and Makenna beside me and told them I wanted to call Grandma Tam. They asked why and I told them I thought maybe they were going to go there for a visit.

Of course my phone wouldn't work. I figured the only way it would work was if we went outside. I carried Jack up the stairs, Makenna at my side holding my free hand, and we stepped into our front hallway, over the storm door, and walked out onto the front porch.

Well Holy Shit.

Our front porch was gone. There was a tree on our truck. My van had moved and turned sideways, the nose of it wedged into what was left of our garage. There was stuff everywhere...trees everywhere...I could barely see across the street. I was in complete shock and awe. Makenna asked what was going on and I said I had no idea.

Jack started screaming. and screaming and screaming and screaming, snapping Makenna and I back to reality. I stepped back into the house to calm him down and we were swarmed by neighbours who had heard the screaming. I assured them Jack was fine and we all checked in with eachother. My one neighbour had a shard of glass in his calf. Another from up the street had cuts all over his face. everyone looked dazed.

My husband surfaced again, in total panic mode, unable to get to the firehall, knowing he needed to get there, not sure what they were dealing with. He kept saying "Something bad has happened". He had put his workboots on at some point and was running around with them untied, sockless, and in shorts and a T shirt. A neighbour across the road yelled at Jeff to take his car and just like that, he was gone. Our neighbours insisted our kids come down into their basement so we ran across the yard and into their house. We were soaked. I left them in the basement, told them I was going to get them some dry clothes, and would be right back.

I stepped out onto their front stoop, shut the door behind me (after noticing they still had a door) and stumbled out into the street.

Pure and utter devastation. Everywhere I looked.
Then I heard the sirens. The sirens I would continue to hear in my head for the next 4 days.

what the hell kind of thunderstorm was that?

Our Story.

2011-08-29T21:22:00.003-04:00

On August 12 2011 I wrote a blog entitled "For Everything there is a Reason"...questioning why things happen why and how they do, what the deeper meanings are, whether or not the Universe is trying to tell me things...etc. I voiced my impatience and frustration in not knowing what path my life, and the lives of my loved ones, was taking. I just wanted to know.

That was 17 days ago. I think.

On August 21 2011, 8 days ago now, an F3 tornado ripped through our town, destroying major parts of it, including our biggest employer, our downtown business core, and our entire neighbourhood, including our street, our home, and our vehicles.

Almost immediately I remembered that blog post, and thought..."Oh fuck. I think I pissed somebody off up there".

We can no longer live in our home. It is being torn down. We have lost both vehicles. Our family was in the home at the time, survived just fine and are currently living at the home of friends who we will never be able to repay. My husband is a firefighter and so I didn't even see him for 2 days afterwards, as he was dealing with the aftermath. I relied on the help of close friends who knew what I needed much better than I did.

I also relied on my brother. You all know how I feel about him.
Multiply that by a billion, trillion, million.

"For everything there is a reason" people say.

Over the next little while, I plan to blog our experiences as we remember them. It will take time, as I want to do it justice, and I also want to document it properly.

But yes, I will blog it.

An F3 tornado is unheard of in my little corner of the world. a corner that a lot more people are aware of now, than ever before.

This next series, about The Tornado, is The Story of Us. The Real Us.
The "us", that will never be the same.
The "us" that is stronger.
The "us" that has gained a whole new outlook on life, a whole new perspective on what matters and what doesn't.
The "us" that is being redefined every single day.

This, will be our story.

The Kids in my Kitchen: Changes to the Blog!

2011-08-21T08:15:00.002-04:00

I have a big job ahead of me today...making 450 chocolate chip cookie dough truffles for an upcoming wedding. I am not going to post a recipe on here this week, but I did want to point out that I have created a page listing all of the "Kids in my Kitchen" posts in one place. As new ones are posted they will be added to the page as well, so that in the future you want to find a specific recipe it will be much easier. On the blog's home page, on the top left hand side, right by the words "To the world you may be one person but to one person you may be the world", you will find the "Home" link, and the "Kids in my Kitchen" link.
This blog is forever a work in process. I will be creating stand alone pages for "Monday's Motivated Moms", "Worth Reading" (remember that?) and other groups of posts as I see fit in the near future as well, so keep checking back.

As for today, if you need me, I'll be in the kitchen. With lots and lots of cookie dough.
:)

Monday's Motivated Moms - KaVonna's Story

2011-08-20T20:45:00.010-04:00

This has been sitting here ready to go for 4 weeks now. Today I am finally able to post it.

Today's "Motivated Mom" is KaVonna, who is representing Visalus. If you live in the same town as I do, you have likely heard of Visalus (pronounced V'eye-sal-us) as it seems to be making a big impression around here. I can immediately think of 3 people I know personally in this town who have became representatives of this company in the last few months and there are many more. Their results are undeniable...read on to learn more about what Visalus is, and does.

Please note that all of the opinions written in the posts from this series are not mine and I do not necessarily share them, they are those of the author's. I am neutral party on each one, and am simply providing each author the opportunity to share their story.

This is KaVonna's story:

What is Visalus?

ViSalus Sciences is a nutrition and weight-loss company, founded in 2005 by Ryan Blair, Blake Mallen, and Nick Sarnicola. Its corporate headquarters are in Troy, MI, USA. ViSalus is a multi-level marketing company using a unilevel compensation plan that distributes health and wellness products. The company distributes its products in the United States and Canada through a network of independent distributors, some of whom earn profit on product sales and additional commission from a multi-level marketing (MLM) compensation structure. The ViSalus product range includes protein shakes, nutritional supplements, and an energy drink. The company promotes its "Body by Vi" program, which is a 90-day weight-loss challenge using its protein shakes as meal replacements.

Why Visalus?
I was concerned about my weight and well being. My body has had a lot of stress put upon it after years of eating disorders and 4 pregnancies. I wanted an easy way to lose weight and maintain my health, without putting uneccessary stress on myself. I was hesitant to try it, until I saw the changes taking place in others who I knew were using the products.
Their results had me convinced! I wanted what they had!
I went in full force, knowing that with Visalus, I could not only take care of myself physically, that it also was a venue for me to have a homebased business, what better combination could there be?

My goal is to help others be the healthiest they can be. Visalus is for anybody and everybody, no matter what your health goal is! The Body By Vi 90 Day Health Challenge is sweeping across both the U.S. and Canada, I have a feeling it will be opening up opportunties world wide! Millions are on the Challenge...Celebs, Pro Athletes... to the homemakers like myself. Are you interested in making a lifestyle change to better your overall health, lose weight and gain muscle mass? Maybe even make a little cash, earn a bonus BMW and chances to win fabulous vacations?

Join me and 90 Days can change your life forever! Please visit my website today and let's get you started!

Want to see your story here? If you would like to be featured in the "Monday's Motivated Moms" series, leave a comment with your contact info here and I will get in touch with you!

Week 1: Nicole's Story - Silpada Designs.

Monday's Motivated Moms - Nicole's Story.

2011-08-14T21:25:00.007-04:00

Here it is; the first submission for my "Monday's Motivated Moms" series! And who better to be the first then the woman who gave me the idea in the first place! Nicole and I have been friends since highschool and she has recently became an Independent Representative with Silpada Designs and is excited to tell you all about it.

For the men that read this blog - just because it's jewellery doesn't mean you should stop reading. There are women in your life. Christmas is coming.

Girls - she has a "Wish List" option. Think about it.

Also, orders can be done online and are shipped right to your door. So even if you don't live local to Nicole, or want to order but don't want to have a get together, you can do that!

Please note that all of the opinions written in the posts from this series are not mine, they are those of the author's. I am neutral party on each one, and am simply providing each author the opportunity to share their story.

Here is Nicole's story!

Hi! My name is Nicole and I recently started a fantastic business with a company that I am thrilled with and love sharing this great opportunity with others.

When I was first introduced to Silpada Designs, I wasn’t even thinking about a home based business for myself as I have been working full time for a number of years, and am still somewhat of a newbie enjoying the delights of motherhood. At a spring get together, a girlfriend of mine showed me a Silpada catalogue and I found the sterling silver jewellery quite appealing. At the time, the main reason I looked into becoming a rep, was to get a lot of this beautiful jewellery for free! I found the startup cost reasonable (in fact I made triple my cost back with my first party) so I thought I’d give it a shot – what did I have to lose?

Since that time, I have found many pleasant surprises working at a home based business, and a big one for me is the extra income for little hours (using the average Silpada home party sales, if you hold two parties of $1,250 retail sales per week, you can earn $750/week by working just 6-8 hours.) We have been able to achieve some of our financial goals sooner than expected, and I am starting to consider some plans for the future including reducing my “day job” hours, and doing something a bit more meaningful with my time. Another great part about this job is that it doesn’t feel like a job! It’s a lot of fun getting together with girlfriends and the benefits that hostesses get are terrific so I’ve had a number of people ask to be hostesses. I also love the way this work fits into my family schedule. I can decide when I work and I don’t need extra babysitting when I’m away. It’s a great business opportunity for moms and if we are blessed again, I look forward to having this opportunity for a supplemented income during a future parental leave.

Now I don’t mean to boast, but I do believe Silpada has a very fine product and I like telling people a bit about what sets Silpada apart. “All Silpada Designs handcrafted jewellery is the finest .925 Sterling Silver, no painted or plated fashion or costume jewellery. Complementing the beautiful Sterling Silver are colourful semi-precious gemstones and natural materials including Freshwater Pearls, Coral, tooled Leather, and much more. So, there really is something for every taste and style.” The jewellery is also backed by a lifetime guarantee and I am very happy to provide a timeless product that my customers will enjoy for endless years to come. In addition, I am very pleased with the support of Silpada’s corporate end. I was a little unsure of myself getting into this, but the free training they offer has been fabulous and the “sisterhood” of Silpada women has put me at ease.

If you are considering starting a home based business and doing direct sales, my advice no matter what company you are looking into, is to find a product that greatly appeals to you. It’s easy to talk about something that you enjoy and enthusiasm is contagious!
I'm so glad my girlfriend introduced me to Silpada, and I love to share this opportunity with others :)

If you would like more information about the jewellery, hosting a party, or becoming a rep, feel free to contact me or checkout my website !

As an added incentive, if you mention that you read this on Melissa’s blog (or coupon code MELISSA) I am offering an extra $25 gift certificate for anyone who hosts a party with me, and a $50 jewellery item to start your collection for anyone who is interested in becoming a rep (offer expires Dec 31, 2011).

Nicole Prentice
Silpada Designs Independent Representative
519 335 4004
nicole_w27@hotmail.com
mysilpada.ca/nicole.prentice

Want to see your story here? If you would like to be featured in the "Monday's Motivated Moms" series, leave a comment with your contact info here and I will get in touch with you!

"For Everything there is a Reason"

2011-08-12T15:28:00.004-04:00

A coworker brought up the concept of "providence" the other day...the idea that people are brought into your life for a reason. You may not know it initially, but later, looking back, you realize that your life has been directly impacted, paths you have taken have been directly influenced, crucial knowledge or inside information you have gained is directly because of, that person.

This ties into thoughts I have been having for quite awhile now, about how "For everything there is a reason"..."God's Way", some people call it. Divine Intervention. This concept has been on my mind. Now, I am by no means a strongly religious person. I do consider myself a spiritual person, and I believe there is a difference between the two. However, I know the quote "For everything there is a reason" a verse that has been repeating in my head lately, a verse I cling to at times, originates from The Bible.

Not that where it comes from actually has anything to do with what I want to say. I just wanted to clarify that by referencing The Bible, this will not be a religious type post.

Anyways.

Do you believe that? That there is a reason for everything?
What I struggle with is waiting to find out, or to have it revealed to me, what the "reason" is.

My grandma will be 70 yrs old in December. For 50 of those years she has lived in the same house in Gorrie. She raised her 4 kids there, played a role in looking after my brother, myself and 2 of our cousins there, and also looked after half the kids in the town of Gorrie there over the years. Everyone only knows that as "Jack and Gwynne's House". For the last 10 years she has lived there alone, following the death of her husband in July 2001.

Finally, at 70 years old and after living there 50 years, she has decided to sell her home. She wants to downsize, to move into something more manageable, and to not have to worry about general upkeep and maintenance anymore.

But no one wants to buy her house.

That home, that is bursting with so many memories, that she has made her life in, that has directly impacted so many lives, so many childhoods...now that she is finally ready to let it go...she feels stuck with it...trapped by it.

When she first proposed the idea to the family about selling the house, I figured she wouldn't have any trouble and would be moved into the new Seniors Apartments with the rest of her friends in no time.

But I was wrong. And I have to wonder why. Is there a reason this hasn't worked out the way she expected? Some people will say "Well yes, the house needs this and this and this and it's in Gorrie"...blah blah blah. But I mean on a deeper level...Is she not meant to sell that house yet? Is she not meant to live back there in the Seniors Apartments? Why? This is causing her worry, grief and heartache...something she thought would be so simple, thought she could choose to do, while still on her terms...has become anything but simple. Why? What is the reason? What is meant to happen?

My Dad's path in life has been less than...smooth. He has encountered a lot of roadblocks, grief and heartache of his own. His path has led him to many unexpected places throughout his 50 years. Was he meant to move out west all along? What is the long term outcome going to be as a result of him being out there? Is he meant to live out there, or elsewhere, for the rest of life? Will he meet people (professional and personal) that will change the path of his life? If he hadn't of went out there when he did, where would he be now? What would his life look like? Is there a deeper reason to all this? Will he get opportunities and answers that he never would have gotten here, changing the way he lives his life and the way he is viewed by everyone else? "For everything there is a reason"...what is the reason, when it comes to my Dad's story?

I have two friends who married eachother 8 years ago after dating for years. It was only a matter of time until they had children. But time kept passing with no announcement. Turns out they were not able to create their own children.

You cannot know 2 people more destined to be parents.

Why? What was the reason for this to happen to this couple, of all couples?

Years later the reason was revealed when they adopted a three month old baby boy. If things had of originally went as they expected them to, they never would have become parents to the child they did. Just last week, they welcomed a baby girl into their home, not even a week old. Blessed again. They cannot imagine their lives any other way now, and at the time, when their story began, they couldn't begin to understand what the reason was for their struggles.

They were destined to be parents all along.

They never doubted that "For everything there is a reason".

Sometimes things happen in your professional life. You don't know why but you tell yourself "For everything there is a reason"...but what is that reason? Then, later down the road another opportunity comes up, a direct result of what happened earlier that you didn't understand. Was that the reason it happened? So you could have this opportunity? What if that had of never happened? Where would you be now? You apply for a position you are sure you are perfect for and you don't get the job. Is there a reason? Were you not meant to get that position because something else is meant to be, something you just don't know about yet?

Or sometimes you meet someone, and meeting them changes your life. Think about where you were when you met your spouse...where would you be now if you had never been where you were that day? Had never met your spouse? Was there a reason you were there that day? How different would your life be today if you hadn't? Sometimes you meet someone that changes your life professionally. Someone who, if you had never met them, you wouldn't have had the opportunities you've had, learned what you've learned...become who you have....

"For everything there is a reason".

This feels like rambling.

There is a lot going on right now that has me wondering what the "reason" is.

Patience is not a virtue of mine.
I struggle with the waiting.
I like to know.

I want to know what's going to happen with my Grandma's situation. With my Dad's situation. I want to know where I'll be...where we'll be...and what the deeper reasons are for things being the way they are...if they will all prove to be worth it in the end, if these are all just part of the processes. I want to know what is meant to be and why.

"For everything there is a reason".

The not knowing. The waiting.
I don't like it.

Thrifty Thursday!

2011-08-11T20:49:00.003-04:00

Back in the Spring, I bought Makenna a new, beautiful snowsuit from Sears. It was normally $140 and I got it for $40. Hopefully this winter ends up better than last winter. A few weeks ago I got her new snowboots, also from Sears, normally $70...I got them for $17. But I still had nothing for Jack for this upcoming Winter. I also didn't really have a Fall jacket for Makenna. All she has really had for a light jacket is a raincoat, which isn't always appropriate, and a few heavy zip up sweater - jacket things.

Today, I stopped into one of my favourite second hand stores, "It was Yours, now it's Mine"
in Bayfield, and happened upon this.

It's shorter in the front, longer in the back, has a zip up under layer and fastens shut with one simple button. It also has a hood. Its made by "Romeo and Juliette".

It cost me $4.50.

I was even more excited when I saw this:

A green, heavily lined, hooded, zip up puffy winter coat for Jack, made by Old Navy.

I have black snowpants for him already and once I get him some cute matching mittens and a hat, he is set.

This one cost me $5.oo.

Her coat may look a little short in the front, but its actually her shirt that is a bit long. And really, for $4.50, I don't care.

Total cost: $9.50.

These were some of my best all time finds I think.

:)

Life Lesson from the eyes o f a 6 year old.

2011-08-10T11:04:00.003-04:00

My daughter learned a life lesson the other day.

At her first opportunity she came to me and said "I have a problem. It's the most serious problem I have ever had. It's big".

Okaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy.

She's 6.

Turns out she had borrowed something from a friend a couple of months ago. They actually traded items. Items worth between $20-$40 each. Today the friend wanted their item back.

Turns out she has lost that item.

"So what did you tell your friend?"
"I said I would bring it back tomorrow".
"Do you know where it is?"
"No".
"So how are you going to take it back tomorrow?"
"Well...can't we just buy a new one?"

I had her look for the lost item. Being 6, this lasted all of 5 minutes. She looked in the silverware drawer, the baking cupboard, the crack of space between our fridge and the wall.

Each time I said "Did you ever play with it there?"
"No."
"Then it's likely not there".

She was satisfied that we would just go buy a new one and the friend would be none the wiser.

And by "we" she meant "I".

"Did I lose it?"
"No."
"Then why should I have to buy a new one? Do you have any money?"
"No"...No, of course not, she's 6.
"Well, you are going to have to tell your friend what happened.

All hell broke loose.

"But I can't! I just can't! They will hate me! They will never talk to me again! No, Mom I can't...will you tell them?"
"Um....no. This is what happens when you get older...this is your thing, not mine...if you are going to borrow other's people's things, you have to be responsible for what happens to those things".

The tears are flowing fast and furious now. Knowing this family well, I try to reassure her that her friend will be okay, will understand that it was an accident. She does not believe me. I ask her if she would rather tell the mom instead and she just cries harder...worried more I think about disappointing the mom, than her friend.

"What are you going to tell this friend when they are expecting it and you don't have it?"
"That I forgot".
"No honey, it doesn't work like that".

I break it to her that her friend will be keeping she item she traded and that there will be no more borrowing between them.

She cries harder now.

I pick up the phone to call the mom and my daughter tries desperately to escape. When I get the mom on the phone she can barely hear me talking, Makenna is crying so loudly. The mom wonders What on Earth is going on at my end of the phone. Makenna'a eyes are red and swollen she is crying so hard.

I explain the situation and as I knew she would, the mom tries not to laugh and downplays the whole thing. After violently resisting me for a few seconds, I give Makenna the phone.

She whispers "Hello?"

The mom tells her to take a deep breath. She reassures her that her child will be fine and will understand and that this is not a big deal. Makenna sits there nodding, squeezing her eyes shut every few seconds, trying not to cry into the phone. She whispers "I'm sorry". Again, the mom reassures her everything is fine. Makenna hands the phone to me and retreats to the next room.

Five minutes after I hang up the mom calls me back saying her child would like to speak to my child.

This wonderful child, with grace and class well beyond their years, reassures Makenna that there is no reason to be upset, that things get lost and turn up all the time, and not to give it a second thought. This child calms her down like an older sbling would. Only then, after hearing it straight from her friend's mouth, does she sit up straighter, brighten, and smile. She hands the phone back to me, assuring me in a clear and confident voice, that everything is just fine.

My daughter, if you haven't guessed by now, takes things to heart. She internalizes, broods, and feels things very very deeply. She makes herself physically ill over things like the first day of school or a role in the school play. This seemingly trivial thing was a huge event for her. I have no doubt if she had kept this inside and not told me, she would have stewed about it all night and been physically sick about it, forcing me to take the day off work tomorrow without knowing why. I can only imagine what had been going through her panicked little mind since the initial conversation when her friend asked for the item back.

Those tears, and that raw emotion that came out of her, that was something else. Having to own up and admit that she lost the item and face her friend, really left an impression on her. I don't think she will forget all those intense feelings anytime soon. It also taught her that she has to be responsible for what she does, that I am not going to hide or clean up her mistakes, and most importantly...that even if she does mess up, her mommy and those that love her...will still love her.

This taught me that my daughter cannot hold things in. She sang like a bird about it, felt horrible, just sick about it, and cried more in 10 minutes than I have seen her cry in months. I'm thinking that this actually might be a good thing in the future.

I was again reminded that some moms, like the mom of this child, really know what they are doing. That child was so sweet with mine, it brought tears to my eyes. In 5 seconds that child made it all better, even though it was their item that was lost.

Thank you, for raising such a great kid.

New Blog series...Monday's Motivated Moms!

2011-08-08T21:26:00.003-04:00

After the success and many positive comments on my "Kids in my Kitchen series" my friend Nicole suggested an idea to me today for a new blog series and I think it's a great one.

I would like to spotlight those of you who are working as independent consultants for a home based business. Maybe you sell Pampered Chef, or Epicure, or Enjo or Usborne Books. Maybe its Silpada jewellery or Tupperware or Party Lite Candles. Maybe you hand crochet baby hats. Or paint on milk cans. Or bake cakes. Many of you do this on the side after working your full time job all week, all the while balancing your kids, spouse, volunteer work and extended family.

But you do it, and you love it. I want to hear about it. And I think others will too.

I am going to launch a new Monday morning series, called Monday's Motivated Moms. (Cause I think most of you that read this and will be interested in participating, are moms.)

I want you to highlight your business, what it is, why you do it on top of everything else you do and why you love it. Because the title of the series references "moms", I want to hear how this affects your family, what your goals are, etc.

In publishing your stories, I want to highlight women in our area that have found a passion and are working to share it with others. Who work this job because they want to, because they believe in it. And I want to help you grow your business. Everyone who reads my blog will read about you and your business. You can link up your website, your facebook page, etc. You can include pictures if you want, and you can even do a giveway or offer an incentive for business that comes from the blog post.

I look forward to hearing and publishing your stories, and educating all those that read this blog and introducing them to all the different products and services available to them.

You can explain what you do and why better than I can. So if this interests you, leave a comment on the blog (not facebook) detailing what business you would like to tell us about and how I can contact you. I would like to highlight a different story each Monday. If you have any questions, please leave them in the comment area on the blog (not facebook) so everyone can see them, and the answers. If you think you know someone who would be a good candidate for this, please pass this along to them.

Are you ready to grow your business? Get some free advertising?
Tell me your story.

The Kids in my Kitchen...Homemade Dill Pickles!

2011-08-01T21:33:00.010-04:00

"The Kids in my Kitchen" is part of an ongoing series where I blog a recipe the kids and I made together. Why do I think it's important for my kids to be in my kitchen with me? Read this.

Makenna loves pickles.
Looooooooves them.

So last fall when we grew cucumbers in our garden, I realized we should show her how to make pickles out of them.
Since she doesn't like cucumbers anyway.

But I had grown English Cucumbers, (the really long ones) which aren't the right kind for making pickles. You need"pickling cucumbers", my mother in law told me. So this spring I picked up a packet of "pickling cucumber" seeds (From Bargain Shop, no less) and we planted them in little pots.

April 2011

Once they sprouted to about an inch long, we transferred the pots to our garden.

At first, we weren't sure they were going to grow, but they eventually did take off.

When I checked in on them on August 1, I noticed a few of them were ready and we decided to give this whole "pickle making thing" a whirl.

We recruited Makenna and had her scrub the freshly picked cucumbers

We assembled the rest of our ingredients: vinegar, pickling salt, alum, and dill.

We followed Jeff's mom's recipe: Add 6 cups of water to a large pot. The measuring cup Makenna used held 2 cups, so she had to figure out how many times she needed to fill it.

Then 2 cups of vinegar.

She didn't so much like the smell of vinegar.

Add 6 tbsps of Pickling Salt (which is different than Pickling Spice).

And 1 tsp of Alum.

Bring all of this to a boil.

Meanwhile, get your cucumbers ready. You can leave them whole, slice them into halves or quarters...whatever you like, really. We decided to slice ours into quarters.

Hand over hand, Daddy taught her how to slice them.

And then under Daddy's watchful eye and while I bit my lip (hard) she did it herself.

5 cucumbers, quartered.

Place a sprig of dill in the bottom of a mason jar.

And then pack the jar with the cucumbers - as many as will fit.

Add another sprig of dill to the top of the jar...

And then pour in the boiling vinegar water, to cover the cucumbers and dill.

(A grown up's job)

Add the seals and lids to the jars and voila!

Let them sit for 2 or 3 weeks in a cool dark place (they don't need to be refridgerated) and they should be good to go!

We had lots of the vinegar water left, so we just put it in a container in the fridge and as more cucumbers come ready in the garden, we will repeat the process, re-boiling the water each time.

We also cut all the sprigs of dill off of the stalks and froze them in a tupperware container so the next time we will have that ready to go as well.

5 cucumbers made 2 jars of pickles - pretty good I think! Makenna really enjoyed this process and when we were remembering the day she planted the seeds in the pot she said "It's like we've completed the life cycle!"

Even Jeff enjoyed this, promising Makenna we would do it all again next year, and grow our own dill too. Then he went online searching for recipes on how to make your own pickled eggs, keen to make those too.

Just because you haven't grown your own pickling cucumbers doesn't mean you can't do this. You can buy these cucumbers from local farmers markets, produce stands, Mennonites and grocery stores. For those local to where I am, Te em Farms announced on their website recently that their pickling cucumbers were ready.

I really believe Makenna learned something today that is going to stick with her and I love that she was a part of the whole process, from taking the seeds out of the packet to twisting the lids onto the jars. Thanks Grandma Wormington, for guiding us through it and helping to teach her a life lesson. Judging by all the cucumbers that are growing in the garden, we could end up with a lot of pickles.

Have I mentioned how much I hate pickles?

I really do.

Especially in Bloody Ceasars. So disgusting.

But seeing the satisfaction on Makenna's face when she bites into that first homemade pickle, that she made...that's what it's all about.

You can also find this blog post at Delightful Order's Thursday Link Party.