PTSD is alive and well and living in the suburbs. On my way to our in-town mailbox, I spotted a smoke cloud. My mind tried to make sense of it. Was it merely clouds as there were many filling the sky? Was it my imagination? As I got closer, ironically I was leaving a message for Joleen my savior. Once again I said “fuck”, and hung up mid-message. I called 911, and they said the now ominous response, “crews are on the scene.” Pushing further, panic building, I inquired, “Is it a house fire or a wild fire?” The operator was kind and responded, “It’s a lightening strike”. Tears now coming, I explained, “I just lost my house in a fire, seeing smoke freaks me out.” Some kind response came back and we said goodbye. The fear rose quickly to the surface. Not again. Not here. Not now. I realize there are fires burning elsewhere in Colorado and around the country. There will certainly be even more this summer. Yet, this close to home feels especially threatening. Not here, please. Please whoever you are up there in the sky or in the molecules or flitting on the wings of fairies or in our hearts. Please whoever and wherever you are. Please.
19 May, 2012 / 6 Comments