the club no one wants to join

our friends allie and kevin are expecting their (first) little baby girl sometime next month. and so i recently mentioned to allie how poignant i found it that they are about to welcome their little girl into the world just as we are letting ours go. it seems so cliche to say that it seems like only yesterday, but of course that is exactly how it seems. and so off to boston we went last week to get our aly moved in to her dorm.

there was a flurry of activity in the week leading up to move-in day. i felt anxious, but hadn't yet cried (about *that*, anyway). even jacko had shed tears, holding his baby girl tight the night before she and i headed north. aly was comforting him and he was softly telling her "i'm just going to miss you so much". it was heartwarming and beautiful and the kind of fatherly love that every child should know. and the bittersweet feelings - overwhelming pride, a touch of sadness, joy and a bit of emptiness - that every parent should know.

emmett and jack would come to join us in boston the following weekend, but first aly and i did a tour of new england with stops in NY, CT, RI, and finally MA. we visited family and friends along the way and had some good mom/daughter time roadtripping between. as move-in day got closer, more than once aly mentioned her surprise that i had not broken down yet. i'd respond, with all the sincerity and love that any good mother could muster, by saying "but there's still a whole week for you to drive me crazy!" (likewise, i am sure).

but inside i, too, was surprised. i mean, it's not just that aly was moving away and would be greatly missed, but our relationship was about to be redefined and we were about to pass from one major life phase (child-rearing) to another (parents-of-adult-children) - there is no turning back - in many ways, our job is done. or at least it is changing. in the aftermath of the fire, all of these musings and introspection have intensified for me.

so i admit i was a little edgy the day or two before move-in, but still - no tears. and since i have very little control over when and where the deluge comes, i started to wonder when it might hit. ah, gee, i hope it wouldn't come when we were moving her in. *that* would be embarassing. but that time came and went with smiles and laughter and only a few snips. that night and the next jack, emmett, and i stayed in a hotel in boston - so maybe the tears would come when we actually said our goodbyes to aly before flying home. but we pulled that off too, with big hugs and kisses and smiles. i figured then that the logical point would be when we boarded the plane for the flight home. nope. how about when we walked into the empty house back in austin? wrong again. so i finally gave up and accepted that it would come whenever it needed to.

it's been a week now and while i miss her like crazy, and the house seems artificially, unnaturally quiet, i had not cried.

on saturday, i got a call from anna, my HR director. she said she hated to bother me on a weekend but had i seen the news about the gas explosion in san bruno, california? yes, i was peripherally aware. it turns out that a fellow employee, who i do not know, lived two houses from the one that exploded. his burnt to the ground - and knowing that we are all too familiar with what that feels like she wanted to know what could they do, what should they do, to help. i immediately jumped back to christmas day. the basics, i told her: do they have shelter? do they have clothes? do they have access to money? i also advised that as his employer, they could do him a great service by simply saying "don't worry about work, we've got your back". free him from worrying about his job, on top of everything else. have IT set his voicemail and out-of-office mail for him, ask him if he has anything urgent that is pending, and just remove it from his plate. that would be such a relief.

it was pretty easy to envision what the next 9 months will be like for this colleague and his family, because we have been living it.

it's complicated, she said. this other employee - he has a name, james - thankfully, james and his older daughter were not home at the time of the explosion. but james' wife and younger child were now missing, and presumed not to have survived.

oh my god oh my god oh my god. all of a sudden this is entirely different than the tragedy that we faced back on christmas day. a completely different scale, and my worst fear (and subject of my PTSD anxiety) realized. i suddenly feel completely ill-prepared and unqualified to presume to know what james and his daughter need. everything we have been through, the complete upside-downing of our world, the total disconnect from the life we lived just hours before - seems miniscule compared to a sudden, shocking, tragic loss of life. and james going through everything we went through without the support of his spouse, and in shock from the devastating loss, and trying to still be a father/protector/provider for his other child. it will take herculean strength.

the tears came then - as a parent, as a spouse, as a human - for the loss, for the pain, for the loneliness. for the bad things that happen over which we have no control. the unfair things. the random things. i had to apologize to anna and take a moment to try and compose myself. it was futile. now she was apologizing, feeling as though she has brought this all back to the forefront for me. i assured her that it's never really in the background.

and really, where i end up is here: we are so lucky. we are so blessed. we are so fortunate. we lost only our *things*. we have everything right here (or, at least, 1500 miles away). this thought is pervasive in my mind: but for a moment, there might have been no reason to make that recent trip to boston. also: jack went back into the house to get our pup, something you're never ever supposed to do. what if what if what if.

i'm not religious, but i have been praying for james' family. mostly, for a miracle. a big one. but beyond that, for strength. for the tidal wave of compassion and generosity that has overwhelmed us. and for a sliver of normalcy to come back to them as they navigate these trecherous and unwelcome seas.

every. day. is. a. gift.

the gift that keeps giving

tonight we took the kids to austin land and cattle to celebrate our 23rd anniversary. yes, we brought the kids with us - we're well aware of how few opportunities we may have left to (force them to) share in family time - so we take advantage of every one of them.

as is fairly common these days, talk drifted towards the new house - where things currently stand status-wise, where they are headed, next decisions to be made, personal preferences for this and that, etc. considering we started very early on with emmett's request for a circular bed, sunken of course (so as to achieve the full love-nasium vibe), and a metal commode (not unlike those you'd see in a prison), we feel that these family chats are invaluable in setting appropriate expectations and building family consensus.

we spent some time over dinner narrowing down choices for things like color and tile and cabinet finish selections. within reason, we're giving the kids the opportunity to provide as much input as possible and we're trying to take everyone's opinions into consideration. we all lost out home 8 months ago, and our new home is rising. it is a family affair, and we're all fully vested. it bonds us in a deep and profound way.

when those suggestions arise that are out of the realm of possibility (either because they're simply cost prohibitive, or just plain ugly) we resurrect the lottery fantasy. well, of course that particular idea might be possible *if* we won the lottery. not sure how winning the lottery would enable us to close our eyes to some of the more distasteful suggestions that have been made, but apparently in our imaginary world when you're rolling in the green a lot of stuff slips under the radar of good taste. regardless of the feasibility of it all, the lottery scenario has kept a lot of family discussions from veering way off track.

i don't remember what the specific suggestion was tonight that led us to the lottery game but before long there we were. and something really lovely was unfolding. instead of the immediate thoughts of the usual me-me-me variety, the kids were contributing some great ideas for how our lottery winnings would enable us to help others. first, a million dollars to miracle league. no one second-guessed that. next, what if we could provide our friend logan with unlimited funds to cover his medical expenses for the rest of his life? logan is 10, and he is emmett's buddy from miracle league for the past 5 years. following a stroke and a heart transplant before he was 1, logan has had more than his share of hardship in his 10 little years - and yet he smiles more than any child you know. talk about a hero. and logan's family has not had it easy, but they were some of the first to respond to our situation - with supplies and gifts and a shoulder to lean on - and logan's dad lance has since provided us with the amazing gift of his outstanding talent as a plumber, taking care of all of that for our new home.

next, we wanted to pay our builder and designer what we should be paying them for the tremendous gift they are giving us (yes, they collect a fee for their services, but we know better than to think it adequately compensates them for their efforts and investments). and one step further - emmett offered "what if we figured out everyone who has given us something, anything, since the fire, and paid them back?". or better, what if we could give them 100% return on their generosity?

aly said "but would they want that?"

we talked a bit more. we agreed that some would not want that. but it was still such a lovely exercise in giving. imagining the ability to give without limits. doing for others. letting go. realizing that less is so, so very much more. understanding the gifts we have been given and how we could spend the rest of our lives and all of our resources (real and imaginary) trying to repay all of the kindness that has come our way, and still falling short. and yet how beautiful and fulfilling it is just to try.

what a great anniversary gift. so great to see the kids wanting to give, so selflessly, with no consideration for their own desires.

of course we all came back down to earth from our righteous highs quickly when jack told the kids that, additionally, each of them would be able to choose a car of their liking.

emmett's response: "just one?".

love and laughter

"just remember, i'm only a phone call away" the magnet said. it has a vintage photo of a little girl holding a rotary phone up to her ear.

she's always been just a phone call away, my entire life. i am not fortunate to know what it is like to have a sister. my cousin donna is as close as i have gotten. we're four months apart in age. it's not really important who arrived first, though since you're wondering i will tell you - it was her. i am the much younger cousin.

we have always been close and hers is the unconditional kind of love that people dream of experiencing. she is so supportive, she is always building me up, always making me feel like so much more than i am. she forgives me all my shortcomings, she knows all my secrets, and we share lifelong inside jokes that reduce us to giggling 7 year olds whenever we revisit them. she was part of my wedding, and i was part of hers. when she showed up the morning of the wedding and asked "so what are you doing with your hair?". ummm... so she quick sat me down and whipped up a hairdo worthy of a bride, and added some makeup too. it was a cinderella moment. no chauffeur? no problem - she volunteered her husband to drive me the 1/4 mile to the church. and he even got out and walked around to open the door for me! it's all captured on our wedding video - which is, like so many other things, toast.

she has come to visit me anywhere i've ever moved - new hampshire, arizona, massachusetts, texas. and when we go to new england, she never asks why i'm not coming to see her or stay with her. instead she says "do you have time? can i come to you?". we have started a tradition of getting together with our girls, aly and amy, once a year, and that is some very special time for all of us.




inevitably, silliness abounds.
and so of course she was one of the first people i talked to on christmas morning. and amidst the tears, she found some way to make me smile. as usual.

the first box came, filled with clothes and gift cards for the kids (seventeen years ago donna had my godson matt exactly one month to the day before i had emmett - and my brother's son eli came just a month later - which marked our family's "summer of boys"). and then a second box came with the little "phone call away" magnet, and a copy of the photo memory book she had given us after our two families vacationed together on fire island a few years ago (the original of which had been lost to the fire), and this amazing scrapbook she had made for me filled with pictures from literally our entire lives (some of those hairdos. oh my. i'll spare you. or me.) and her comical commentary throughout...well, it lifted me up. it kept me connected.

and that was not all.

one day we received in the mail a letter from the firefighter's association of NY. in it was a nice note, and a check. donna had taken the time to find this organization, had written to them and explained our situation, and they had decided to send us a donation. from total strangers in new york. as if she had not done enough already.




so happy birthday, dear (much, much, older) cuz. and thank you for never letting me forget that you're always just a phone call away.

transformations

my recent fb update was "every day our house is transformed a little bit. and so am i".

it's been true. i'm not who i was. i surprise myself. and some days i kind of like it.

each day when i get home from work i walk over to the new house, the one that is rising. we're definitely so thankful now that we were able to rent a house right diagonal from our old home. on our little cul de sac, with the familiar neighbors and surroundings. at first it was hard being so close. i felt so sad when i would look at it, all dark and dying. all scorched and littered with remnants of what was. the demo was a tremendous step forward. sad, but necessary. gut wrenching, yet cleansing. i cried a lot back then.

i cry a lot now, but for different reasons.

so each day i spend about an hour just walking through the house, noticing what's new or changed since my last visit. the house is familiar, because we were fortunate enough to retain the slab - so the footprint is basically the same. and yet in my time wandering around over there i definitely feel like i am getting to know someone new. someone who, upon first meeting, you just know will end up playing a big part in your life.

some days the changes are big and impossible to miss - like the first day of framing, the day the roof went on, or the day the plumbing was all roughed in. other days the changes are more subtle - like when the tongue and groove soffits went in - subtle, but so special, one of kurt's special touches. and there have been days when i can tell something is different, though i can't put my finger on it. i'll search and search, but i just don't see it. so i'll ask jack "was anyone working at the house today?" and he'll say no. hmm. i think maybe those are the days when the soul of the house has grown some (can't you just hear jacko rolling his eyes?). all sorts of changes are there, each one bringing us one step closer to our home.

the changes i feel in me are similar. some seem big and all in my face - like my relationship with fire, obviously. i've always loved candles and campfires and fireplaces - i could sit and watch for hours, mesmerized by the power and the energy. now i just see the power and energy differently - there is some fear and some discomfort. and a whole lifetime of respect. other big changes are simple but powerful - expecting less, and giving more. some of the changes sneak up on me. like crying at those iPhone commercials. there i was minding my own business, watching "the office" and feeling fine and next thing i know, we go to a commercial break. deluge. and i thought it was bad years ago when i would tear up over the budweiser commercials with the clydesdale and the little boy in the wheelchair. but iPhone commercials? the line between laughing and crying has suddenly become very, very fine for me. sneaky.

there are superficial changes too. when we remodeled the kids' bathroom a few years ago, or the kitchen a few years before that, i knew exactly what i wanted (stop laughing, donna). stained cabinets, of course. granite countertops, without a doubt. travertine, and thick saltillo tile. and when we started this journey 7+ months ago, i would have assumed i'd be going down that same road. but of course that was the old me.

when kimberly suggested that we go with painted cabinets ("crisp and clean" she had said), i nodded politely but inside i am sure i was looking at her like she had two heads. and then she showed me some pictures and suddenly, much to my surprise, it was all i could imagine. suddenly granite and travertine seemed so heavy. too much. much more than i needed. i did a 180 in the blink of an eye.

so while some of the personal changes don't sound too appealing (like the spontaneous combustion, for example, or the fire aversion), i am somewhat tickled to be discovering this new me inside of me. like the house, my foundation is the same. but what is going up feels very, very different.

like magic

it was perfectly serene. just aly and i, sitting in the kiddie pool. she was sweetly, adorably, quietly pouring water from one cup to another in her little ruffly bottom bathing suit with the big diaper bum. she was 17 months old. we had it to ourselves, which was a good thing because it was summer in texas which meant an easy 100 degrees, and i felt like i was about 13 months pregnant while waiting for baby #2 any. day. now.

suddenly, the gate to the pool burst open with a bang and a stampede of noisy, dirty, loud, rowdy and rambunctious *boys* came running in, all hollering and shoving, and shooting their super soakers, and nearly sending little aly bum over teakettle.

i froze.

because it suddenly occurred to me that this thing growing inside of me could be...oh say it ain't so...one of them. i always knew there was only two ways to go with this baby thing. and i had become familiar - actually completely charmed - with the way things had gone the first time around. and i couldn't at that moment imagine things going any other way, even though i suppose i had known logically all along that "it" could be "him".

we were living in the dallas area - richardson, to be exact. i was working for the best company that ever existed (and those of you who were with me then know that i am right), we had bought our first house, i was deeply, madly in love with my husband, and we had this precious, gorgeous, smart, and absolutely perfect little angel. life was pretty perfect.

and now it dawned on me that there was a real potential that i was about to f it all up by giving birth to one of those wild and uncivilized little beasts.

i was beside myself. but where was i to turn? we were the first of our local friends to have kids, and my family was 1500 miles away. where could i turn? who would understand? who could guide me? i needed immediate relief from this haunting nightmare.

i turned to my invisible friends on the web. oh the web was new back then, and we didn't necessarily have all your fancy gizmos and gadgets...like GUIs (feh!)...but we had usenet. and usenet had newsgroups. and i had gotten attached to a certain newsgroup called misc.kids.

we were people all over the country, and all over the world - and we talked about anything and everything that had to do with young humans. not everyone was a procreator, and discussions were lively and thought provoking. and since we were so far from family, misc.kids became a welcome and welcoming respite as we navigated our way through as first time parents.

i went home from the pool that day and posted about my experience. GAH. boys! and more importantly, how was i ever going to be able to love this #2 whatever-it-was, as much as i already loved my perfect angel aly? and would aly be cheated because she'd have to share us with another child? really, new parents are pretty close to insane.

thankfully, one of my buddies on misc.kids had children a little older than mine. and he responded with words that stay with me to this day. about how love is really amazing because it is infinite. so it's not like you have one bucketful of love and have to dole it out. he had learned that he didn't have to carve out love for #2 from the love he had for #1. they each got all of his love. because love is magical that way, and 1 divided by 2 equals 2. and 1 divided by 4 equals 4. like magic.

those words were so comforting to me (though they did not specifically address the horrors of little boys). i saved his words all these years. his reply was still on my computer just 7 months ago, and now his words lie with the ashes - but are still strong in my heart and mind (although i will never remember them as eloquently as he had written them).

as our newsgroup evolved, some of us actually had face to face gatherings when time and geography would allow. we made annual photobooks, and we did remote christmas gift exchanges (i once made tie dye shirts for a family of 6 whom i had never met). we shared so much in writing that when we did meet, it often felt like we were seeing old friends. for the first time.

we shared triumphs and tragedies, births and deaths, first steps and first proms, life's ups and downs. these people, most of whom i never met, were a wonderful lifeline for me when i was in the middle of nowhere texas far from my family and childhood friends.

over time i kind of drifted. life got busy, and so i participated less. the kids grew up and as they needed us a little less, i guess i needed that intimate support a little less. i stayed in touch with one or two, but often thought of the others.

enter facebook. which for all it's shortcomings and pitfalls, does have the amazing ability to draw people back together from a lifetime ago. so the fire came and ate our house, and within hours word was out on fb. and somehow someone from my old usenet newsgroup stumbled upon me and learned of our story. and one friend told another who told another who told another, and the love came pouring in. from people i had not been in touch with in *years*.

one day jack asked me "who is kate d"?. what? what do you mean who is kate d? the past blasts to the present. "someone named kate d just made a donation to the paypal account for our fire recovery". oh my word. why? how? it had been so long since i'd even heard her name. and shortly after that, i received a box in the mail with an exquisite, hand knitted scarf in all of my favorite colors. from kate d.

this amazing, talented (she is also world class storyteller), generous, thoughtful woman who undoubtedly was busy with her own life and whom i had not so much as exchanged an email with in, literally, years - she took the time to reach out.

and, by the way, i have never met kate d.

now tell me again how unfortunate my situation is, because some days i seem to be missing that.

so to bring this back around to that day 17 years ago at the kiddie pool, as you all know i did in fact end up having one of those *boy* things. and you know what? he wasn't all loud and rambunctious and rowdy (well, at least not all the time). and my love *did* expand just like that guy said it would. and i am able to love emmett with all my heart while still loving aly with all my heart. magic! and my life has been enriched and expanded and challenged and blessed in ways i never could have expected, simply as a result of his arrival on the planet. so happy 17, emmett!

full tilt, full time

anyone who has spent more than 5 minutes with jacko knows about his love for his beloved new england patriots. and it would only take 5 minutes because, unless it was football season, he might first be talking about his beloved red sox, or his celtics, or his bruins. and so our family room, where the big screen tv was, had become a shrine of sorts. over the years many of us have purchased great photos and memorabilia for jacko. he had footballs from three of the pats four superbowl appearances, a red sox banner from after the 86 year drought, and many many framed photos, some autographed. our walls were adorned with photos of the 2002 snow bowl, and of bobby orr's great, classic 1970 stanley cup goal, of mchale, bird, and parrish together on the bench, and a particularly painful autographed photo of the ball going through buckner's legs in '86 (courtesy of baze, that bastard) - among many others.

baze had come over a few days before christmas with something for jack. since they don't officially exchange christmas gifts, baze called it a "housewarming gift" (perhaps a poor choice of term, in hindsight). it was an autographed, framed photo of tedy bruschi. years ago, when we had all gotten our pats jerseys, jack had chosen #54. what a perfect addition to jacko's collection.

when the big ball of flame came two days later, the family room was one of the rooms that was completely consumed. and along with everything else that was lost, was all of jack's memorabilia. if you're not a diehard sports fan, you may not be able to relate to that loss. but it represented a passion jack that had shared his whole life - with anyone who would listen. it provided endless fodder for conversations with his dad and mine, gave him something to pass on to the kids, something to share with his best buddies up in rhode island (that they had shared since childhood), and - on a personal note - a great source of inspiration for jack's gifts over the years. next to his photographic equipment and all of the many many beautiful photos he has taken, i think he'll miss that memorabilia most.

we hadn't yet hung up the new photo in the family room. it had been on the island in the kitchen where jack had unwrapped it. but unfortunately, the kitchen was another room that was completely engulfed. so the new photo had also been lost.

after the smoke had cleared, a few days post fire, baze was helping us sift through the debris as we somewhat futilely continued to look for anything that could be salvaged. the mood was momentarily lifted when baze uncovered this gem in the kitchen:

all that was left of baze's gift to jacko happened to be a fragment of the photo that prominently showed good old #54. of course tedy bruschi knows his own brand of adversity having suffered a stroke followed by heart surgery in early '05 when he was just 31. knowing that bruschi had fought his way back and had made a miraculous return to the field just 8 months later, we stood there amidst the ashes and commented on his spirit in the face of adversity and how tedy was a shining example for us. he was simply unstoppable.

baze, who with the exception of baseball season when he suffers from seasonal insanity, shares jack's new england sports passion. he has spent many many sundays at our house. he gets jack. and he gets how much all that stuff meant to him. so he got to work - but i don't think even baze had a clue about what he was capable of doing for his friend.

this is not just about how wonderful baze is, though that is certainly where this particular story starts. it's also about more people reaching out - people who we have never met.

baze is a member of an online community of patriots fans. over the years he has developed friendships with several of the other members, in particular the community manager - a guy named randy (aka "zip"). zip maintains the patriots fan web site, which has built a community that spans the US. zip is as diehard as they come. he is a veteran tailgater and even earned the official title "patriots fan of the year" in 2001. and zip knows *his* own brand of adversity, having lost his eye sight to a neurological disorder in 2000.

zip is blind, but like tedy he is also unstoppable as recent articles about him can attest (http://wbztv.com/local/blind.hiker.washington.2.1769438.html and http://www.ledgertranscript.com/article/focusing-on-his-abilities).

so baze knows zip (though they've never met) and they share a bond. and zip has, over the years as a #1 fan, gotten friendly with a certain full tilt, full time patriots linebacker (you guessed it, #54).

jack <-> baze <-> zip <-> tedy.

baze had obviously told zip of our situation because one day in february, a package arrived. we all stared at the return address. it was hand written. it said "bruschi".

this is what we found inside:

unstoppable indeed.

thank you, zip and tedy, for the kindness you have shown to people you have never even met and for the role models you continue to be. thank you baze for helping to bring a smile back to jacko's face (after the tears in his eyes). you all make *us* feel unstoppable. tedy's photo is already helping to make our temporary rental house feel like home and we could not imagine a more perfect first memento for our new family room.

a house becomes a home

it's kind of nuts, some days.

i've been riding the emotional rollercoaster for months now and have joked about how i have zero control over my emotions these days - like i don't even try to control it any more and i have come to accept that on occasion i will spontaneously combust, usually at the most inconvenient times. like at work, or while driving down the street, or while talking to an acquaintance. as i have said before, the time when i feel like i should or would break down, when i am with my nearest and dearest, i usually don't. instead i feel a surge of strength or stability or something. i've come to accept this.

i have pretty much always been close to my one and only brother, paul,

except for those few pre-teen years when he teased me unmercifully and i thought he was wicked (and not in a good way). of course if we didn't have those years, i'd find our relationship too stepford-like - but those memories add just the right amount of normal to our history.

arriving on the planet a full two years ahead of me, he really has grown to be the perfect big brother in so many ways. he shoulders a lot, has built a beautiful, model family, and is always without fail there for me. he's always there for everyone, though - not just me. but i know i have a special place as his "little sister". and so his was one of the very first phone calls that i made on christmas morning. i knew my parents were on their way to his house to celebrate the holiday, and i wanted paul to be able to break our news to them as gently as possible. i was afraid that i'd break down as soon as i heard my parents' voices, and that would worry them, and leave them feeling fairly helpless at 1500 miles away.

and so i called my big brother.

it was early, 9am maybe? the smoke was still rising - but they were already up probably hard at work in their kitchen making some amazing tapas and his awesome focaccia like they often do for their guests. i think i asked paul to get my sister in law chris on the phone too. and once i had them both, i started to tell them what had happened - that we were ok, that the house was gone.

we talked about how best to tell my folks - we would wait until they arrived at his house. there was no point in calling them on their cell phone while they were in transit - i was worried that the shock would be too stressful. then he reminded me that "they only turn on their cell phone when they need to call someone" anyway :-) once they arrived at his house, he'd sit them down and tell them that - first and foremost - the four of us were ok, and then the details. we had a plan, and then i would call them later once the dust had settled and i felt more in control of my emotions.

of course our plan fell to pieces as we were standing outside mo and ronnie's at about 11am and my cell phone rang. caller ID told me it was my parents. wow, that was fast. my dad sounded surprised at the sound of my voice. but wait, i said, you called me so how can you be surprised it's me? he told me that he was trying to call my brother, to let them know that he and my mom were running late. somehow he had dialed me instead. knowing they were en route, i quickly debated - do i tell them? or let them get to my brother's house first? i've never been anything but an open book so it took about a nanosecond before i was telling my dad everything. and then my mom got on the phone. i held it together as i shared it all with them.

in the days and weeks after the fire we had many heart to hearts with my brother and sister in law. one january day, jack and i arrived home at the same time and walked in to our rental house together. we were stunned momentarily by what we saw. there, displayed across the kitchen table, were a dozen beautifully framed photos of our family - all ages, all stages. we both wept. we embraced.

aly was there and had unpacked the box when it arrived. she was responsible for the display, which was simultaneously overwhelmingly gut wrenching and amazingly heart warming. a big box had arrived from my brother's family. in it, a photo collection of our lives, delicately and thoughtfully framed and ready for us. photos i had assumed were gone forever. there were more than the framed photos too - generous gift cards for each of the four of us, sweet heartfelt notes, and a lifetime's worth of other photos and videos on CD and DVD. everything paul and chris could pull together, they did.

it's funny how you don't necessarily know the things people notice about your home. when i called to thank them, chris said that she had been thinking of our house and how we always have had a multitude of family photos on the walls - which was really true because i always felt my kids got jipped by living so far away from their extended families. i just never knew anyone noticed. we always made sure to capture moments, vacations, holidays - to have photos of so many cherished family members all around us. after all, 2D is better than no-D.

chris and paul not only knew how devastating the loss of our photos would be for us, but took the time to sift through their own collection and try to recreate ours. in an instant, that one box they sent had transformed a little, temporary rental house into our home.

i had been feeling so uncomfortable in the rental house. this was not my house. these were not my things. i was living with a stranger. and once i had familiar photos to spread around, my perspective seemed to change. instead of feeling like "these are not my things", i saw a kitchen table from rick and theresa, dishes from cathy and dave, a sofa from lori, a fridge from the danielsons, and so much more - the house and its contents became a composite of the goodwill we had received from all of the people who had reached out to us.

and in a moment, a house became a home.