The Grief of Watching Your Home Burn …
In the wake of the ongoing and devastating fires here in Southern California, it felt appropriate to write about the grief we have been plunged into.
We have a tendency to minimize loss in order to make it less scary and more distant. This is compounded when the loss consists of seemingly “replaceable” things. Non-death losses like the loss of a car, home, or personal item can be significant sources of staggering loss.
If you or someone you know is experiencing loss on this scale, you’re right in thinking your life will never be the same. And that is something to grieve. The road ahead is not going to be uniform, comfortable, or swift. This is grief territory.
At this point in our lives, most of us have experienced and grieved natural disasters and devastating world events. You may have some idea of how you move through your grief and what is helpful to you.
For me, last night I was driving my daughter to rehearsal and for the first time I caught a glimpse of the smoke. The sunset wasn’t visible, it was just a horizon of a thick smokey brown. As we kept driving the views kept showing more and more of the proof that LA was burning. From the seat in my car in my undisrupted life, I felt profound sadness in witnessing (from a great distance), evidence of this still blazing tragedy.
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My hope in writing this is to validate the deep and aching pain we are collectively feeling with each firey photo and glimpse of the smokey horizon. Channeling that sorrow into supportive action is one of our most profound tools in working through grief. While we can’t restore these homes, neighborhoods, or possessions, we can care for the people.
In the wake of tragedy, we soften toward each other as our own fragility is shown to us. If there is any good thing that can come from these fires, let it be how we treat each other in the aftermath.