support - C.E. Lemieux Jr

07/22/2012

This began as a Facebook post. After I decided I had too much to say for that, it morphed into a blog article and after Julie asked me to write something for the paper, it was modified a little more. First, before I go any further, I have to say this, “If your gas grill is closer than three to five feet from your home, stop reading this and go move it. You don’t want that regret hanging over your head.”

Okay, where to start? That’s what I think when I look at what is left. It is also what I think when I begin to think of all the things for which we are thankful. A nearly one hundred year old landmark is gone, as is the home where so many of our memories took place, the only place our kids know as home. We’ve kind of moved around through temporary homes and we still have some more transitions to endure. My kids lost most of their treasures and mementos. I won’t deny that it is uncomfortable and humbling to be where we are right now. Yet, I can’t help feeling we are blessed beyond measure. We are well and safe and living among really terrific people.

We are not the first to lose a home to fire or to be faced with difficulty. There are so many people out there who have it much worse than we do today. There are people who have absolutely no insurance, no families, or live in communities where they feel they are among strangers. There are those who have lost loved ones and live through terrible tragedies. There are those who are called upon to find deep wells of courage, just to get through the obstacles which face them. We have much for which we can be thankful. We are fortunate the fire didn’t smolder until we had gone to bed and that we had neighbors who came to warn us, call it in, and help try to put it out. We are fortunate we have family and friends nearby. We are so blessed to be living where we do. Though our lives have been changed and are a little crazy right now, we are blessed and we know it.

Over the past few weeks there have been so many times when I’ve felt overwhelmed by the blessings of kindness which have fallen upon us, much like the coach at the end of Facing The Giants or George Bailey at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life. You…yes…You are the greatest people on the planet. From the Deputies, Firemen, and EMTs who had their hands full all day with a grass fire only to spend the evening trying to help us, to the friends and neighbors who have gone way beyond anyone’s expectations, to the prayer warriors who have come together for us from all over – “Thank you” will always seem to fall short of really explaining how much we appreciate you, but we’ll try. Each time one of You show up to offer more support, or to offer words of kindness, we are seized with emotion. On Sunday you overwhelmed us once again with your kindness.

There are so many of you, we simply can’t name all of you individually and we certainly wouldn’t want to leave anyone out. Some of you work behind the scenes, so we don’t even know all you have done, but rest assured we know you are there. Thank you for your generosity, for your kindness, your concern, your gifts, your words and deeds. Thank you for your dedication, your thoughts and your prayers. Most of all, thank you for being you – the caring, wonderful people you are. You’ve come together for so many others and I’m sure you will come together for many others in the future. That togetherness is one of the many things which seems to make living in this area so special. It may not be glamorous, but it is home.

To me our house had become a living thing; the place where my kids have grown; the place to which we moved when we were new parents; a place which has helped inspire my imagination; a place which was occupied before us by some very special people. So much history moved through those walls, both our history and Forgan’s. Though I’ve grumbled through replacing windows, walls, and the cost of heating and cooling it; it was still special enough to serve as a setting for three of my stories. It may not have been glamorous, but just like the area in which we live, it is home.

Last week I sat on the front porch and thought of all the things I’ll miss about that house. I’ll miss stepping out on the covered porch with my kids during a thunderstorm to watch the rain roll off the roof and feel it spray against me when the wind blows. I’ll miss the way the porch swing thumped, thumped, thumped as the wind blew it into the side of the house. I’ll miss the sound of my kids running down the stairs. I’ll miss its creaks and settling noises. I’ll miss the view going into the front door which inspired the first chapter of Whispers in the Wind.

We’ll have another home and it will have its own memories and characteristics, but it won’t be that one. It won’t have the same atmosphere or the worn in feeling of an old pair of jeans or a favorite t-shirt. It will be newer and probably have fewer problems. The walls and the trim won’t be scared and scuffed by the day to day life of a growing family. No, it won’t be the same, but over time it will take on a life of its own. Its walls will hear and remember the voices of a thousand conversations. It will break in like that new pair of jeans and become just as comfortable as the old ones. The walls and paint will become smudged with growing hands; there will be pieces of our lives left upon their surfaces. It will transform from a house to a home and a capsule of our lives together.

The past three weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. We’ve spent much of the time working from morning until late in the evening sorting and sifting. We’ve received help with that from our families and friends. We’re still working on inventorying the house. It’s a long process and I encourage you to at least take some pictures of your rooms to keep in the safe deposit box so you have something to reference for later. Most of our rooms downstairs, though smoke and water damaged, are intact and that has helped, but the upstairs is a different story. Also, get a fireproof-safe for your pictures or get them put on disc and keep them in your safe deposit box. We have been able to save a lot of pictures. We had one tub of photo albums which would have burned, but it was full of water. We had to pull the pictures apart and dry them, but they were saved.

We’ve received so many clothes, that we donated the ones which weren’t the right sizes. So you helped us and we passed on some of your help to others. We are in good shape on clothing. My parents dining room and Julie’s dad’s porch were filled with tubs of clothing until we moved into the temporary home. We’ve had offers of furniture and cooking items, but right now our biggest issue is having room to storing things. Our garage is filled with things we could salvage from the house, cabinets and furniture. Many of those items may have to go due to smoke or water damage, but we have to keep them until after the insurance company finishes its numbers. We can’t really start cleaning up the sight or tearing down the structure until they are done.

We received offers of places to stay and though most of them didn’t work out because of the size of our family, we appreciate your offers more than you can know. The insurance company decided to move in a mobile home for us to live in temporarily.

Our hope is to rebuild or move in a modular home. Though we’ve started looking at home plans and visited with some builders and modular home companies, we really can’t make any decisions until we see what we can afford. Our insurance basically pays for the parts of the home which were destroyed until it meets the maximum. Again, just a suggestion, but take a look at your homeowner’s policy and see what is covered. If you can afford it, make sure you have replacement coverage and not just a dollar amount.

We’ve gone back to work and are making adjustments to our normal. So to sum it all up, friends and neighbors, we will be okay. It will be awkward, uncomfortable, or difficult for a while. We may have to adjust to a different type of home or some place smaller than we were accustomed, but we’ll be fine. We may not have a place to call our own for a while as we figure out what steps to take, but we’ll be okay. God has blessed us to live in a great community and a great area. We have each other and our families. We’ll create more memories and gather more mementos. Someday things will seem normal again, but every day we can be thankful to live in an area where people have the kinds of hearts and souls which reach out to others; the kind of people who understand that there is sincerity in our words when we say, “Thank You.” Along with our thanks, know that you are in our prayers as well. We pray that the Lord will bless you for blessing us. May His kindness and generosity rain down upon you and your families. May He quench the thirst of your dry land and watch over you as you have watched over us.

2012

Times are hard. Folks are looking for jobs. Homes are being foreclosed upon. Prices are going up. Wild fires are roaring across the grasslands. Drought is drying and cracking the earth in parts of the country while flooding has ravaged other areas of the nation. Times are hard.

A couple of weeks ago I helped a friend of mine take a large number of his cattle to market. It was a tough decision for his family. They’d worked hard at growing their herd. Each year they moved out the older cows and were working toward improvement. But the reality is that there has been little rain across our area; grass is scarce; the price of hay is high. They can only afford to feed a certain amount of cattle.

To make matters worse, farmers in the area are finding it hard to plant winter wheat. In a normal year they’d be able to allow the cattle to graze on the young wheat. With no rain, there is no planting. Some folks are dusting their wheat into the ground with the hope that rain will come and offer moisture to the seeds after they buried beneath the surface of the soil. It’s a big risk. Seeds and fuel cost money.

We sorted the cows and calves, keeping the cows he thought he could afford to feed. We loaded as many as the trailers would hold and had to make several trips. He knew he was taking a loss to sell them early. At the sale barn, we waited in line. There were others who faced the same decisions. Horse trailers and cattle trucks lined up to alleviate the burden on heavily grazed pastures. It’s a buyer’s market. In a few months, there will be fewer cattle to take to market, and beef prices are likely to go up. That will affect the rest of us.

Times are hard, but they aren’t as hard as they’ve ever been. Our grandparents and great grandparents had it harder. They endured the crash of the market, the great depression, two world wars, and the dust bowl. They made it through. In fact, my friend’s family was one of the few who persevered, held on, and made a life in this rugged country. So many were forced to pack up and move away. Many found life in the cities almost as difficult.

How did they make it? What lessons can we learn from them?

They made it by reaching deep inside, finding discipline and determination where it hides inside. They pinched pennies. They made things last. They held tight to what matters; family, friends, neighbors. They stuck together. They helped each other out. They did what they had to do. Times were hard.

When times are hard, we have to look for what’s important. We have to make the tough decisions. We have to hold on to what matters most and make the most of what we have. Commitment, dedication, determination, self-sacrifice – those words hold more meaning when times are hard.

My wife recently had surgery four and a half hours away from home. My mom stayed with the kids. My wife is doing well, still sore, but getting around. Times are hard, but folks showed up at our house with meals every day. They stuck with us, showed us kindness, took the time to think of others even though things might not be going well for them right now.

There’s another word which has more meaning when times are hard; that word is hope. We hope for the rains which will eventually come. We hope for an improvement in the economy; for jobs to become available; for prices to stabilize. However, hope isn’t an empty pail waiting to be filled. Hope is the heart at work. It is that determination our ancestors tapped into; it is staying prepared to leap when the time is right. Hope is keeping our eyes open; our ears alert; and our souls on fire for the day which promises to bring those improvements we so desire.

The encouragement, support, and kindness of others can help fuel our hope. We can help build the hope of others by offering them our support as well, but real hope comes from inside; it comes from the determination that we are strong enough to face what comes against us. Hope comes from knowing the sun will shine through the clouds again someday and we will be ready for that day. In my book Loving Deacon, Emily and Deacon are among those who endure. They hold on to each other. They treasure what matters most. Their love and determination see them through. They are the kind of folks who add to the hope of others even when they may be struggling as well. Their spirits are carved from the stone which serves as the foundation of American values and traditions. They hold onto their hope when times are hard.

Tag: support

From Our Family To Yours

Times Are Hard