Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

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Archives for June 2012

What Can I Do For My Friends in Colorado?

June 27, 2012 by Alison Hodgson Leave a Comment

Below is a list of some of posts I’ve done with advice for how to support someone after a fire:

Here are some ideas of What NOT To Say.
Here is a advice on What To Say.
Suggestions on What To Do.

From this morning remembering our fire and thinking of those in Colorado, a post about loss and hope an offering of compassion.

How not to make someone’s tragedy All about YOU!

This is a part of our fire story where I learn there is such a thing as Fire Etiquette.

Here is a short exploration of how to avoid being a Stupid Person With Good Intentions.

I’ll be posting later today with specific advice on how to support those in the uniquely terrible situation of waiting for a fire.
Tip: Shut up and pray.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Remembering Our Fire As Colorado Burns

June 27, 2012 by Alison Hodgson Leave a Comment

On the second anniversary of our fire, I’m thinking of Colorado.

This time two years ago my house is a sodden mess and still smoking: a total loss from the perspective of insurance. I am at my sister and brother-in-law’s house, dazed but euphoric. I am technically homeless, but could not care less.

I’m not thinking about the stuff. I don’t care about the stuff. I didn’t have time to worry about the stuff.

Paul and the kids are safe. Hope, Lydia’s friend who was spending the night—God bless her—is safe. Jack, our beloved dog is safe.  Max, the fledgeling sparrow Eden rescued just the day before is safe.

It is well with my soul.

We are all alive.

I feel great.

The good thing about someone setting your house on fire while you are in it sleeping, is you’re not given time to worry. Alarms go off and you slip right into shock.

Shock is awesome.

If someone sets your house on fire while you are in it, you are spared the thinking, the weighing and deciding, the trying to save things. You focus on saving lives. You lose every thing but, if every one is safe, you don’t care.

This time two years ago we are at Paul’s sister’s. It’s a second home for our children, so they begin to relax. The surreality has context: standing in your pajamas watching your house burn can’t be understood, sitting in Aunt Dawn’s and Uncle Thom’s living room watching your house burn on TV feels half way familiar.

Hope is scared. Hope wants her parents.  They are on a rare get-away, attending a wedding. They have turned off the phone. They never turn off the phone but just this once they do. Hope calls and calls. No answer. Hope calls an aunt who knows the name of the hotel and reaches the parents who are across the state, more than two hours away. There are more calls and plans and a close family friend comes to get Hope.

I meet her at the door and smile widely. She is crying. I hug her. Yes, it’s terrible, but we’re fine. We’re OK. We’re going to be OK. I hug Hope. She could have stayed with us; we love Hope. I am oblivious to her need and fear.

I know Hope is leaving, but I can’t understand what that means, exactly. Too quickly, I will learn.

I don’t know what it’s like to have an impending fire. It must be terrible to have all the stress of flight and the extended worry in the possibility of loss. If your’e going to lose everything anyway, I prefer immediate shock and certainty of loss. But we can’t always choose our fires.

This morning, in my new home, my husband occupied by the banal tasks of turning on sprinklers, sipping coffee, writing bills, our children and dogs still sleeping, birds chirping, this peaceful, quiet morning, I am thinking of Colorado—and the elusiveness of the appearance of hope—and I’m praying.

Filed Under: burn the house down, colorado fires, hope, the fire

This Might Be The Sweetest Picture In The World

June 19, 2012 by Alison Hodgson 1 Comment

You decide.

Filed Under: Eden, love, Pugs

My Friend’s/Neighbor’s/Co-Worker’s House Burned Down: What Should I NOT Say?

June 12, 2012 by Alison Hodgson 6 Comments

photo: Sandi Gunnett

This is the view from the garden bed that ran along the western side of my house. You’re looking into the storage area that was under the stairs and opened into my garage, which was where the fire was set.

“Was set” denotes purpose. Most home fires are accidental, but ours was caused by arson. Someone randomly (he was a stranger and had no personal animus towards us) set our house on fire.

When something goes drastically awry in another person’s life, we feel for them. How horrible, we think. And we wonder: what happened? This is natural curiosity as well as the subtle desire to pull  back from the possibility that this could happen to us. We look for the cause, in order to assure ourselves we are safe.

My rule of thumb for conversation with anyone who has experienced a trauma is to ask myself, “Would I say this to someone who has been repeatedly thwacked in the head with a shovel?” I find, more often than not, the answer is no.

  • “Did they ever find out what caused it?” This is the natural question after a fire. Don’t ask it, especially if children, who ran from the burning home, are present. This seems obvious but you would be surprised.
  • “You weren’t home.” This assumption was a favorite of strangers and quickly followed by:
  • “But everyone’s OK, right?” I’m going to need you to define “OK”?
  • “It’s just stuff.” Absolutely, and no actually, it’s a whole lot more.
  • “At least you get a brand new house!” 
I know it’s apparent how unhelpful these are, but watch yourself: given the chance to comfort someone after a fire you will probably find platitudes bubbling up that would give Pollyanna a run for her money. In crisis situations some of us tend to blather and most of us have the impulse to try to make things OK. To be willing to stand in that discomfort, without platitudes and rosy mathematical equations (fire + new house and stuff = worth it!) is a rare gift.

Filed Under: Be Haven, the fire, What Not To Say

Chocolate, Sweets and Cycles

June 8, 2012 by Alison Hodgson 1 Comment

Today Eden stepped into the van and noticed an empty bag of a chocolate chips. “Who left this?” She asked as much as accused.

“Who do you think?” I said.

“Christopher.”

“He’s got quite a sweet tooth.” I said.

“I think he has that thing you told me about that girls and women, who are 11 to 50, get every month, where they want chocolate.”

“No, not that. He just craves sweets.” I said, trying not to laugh.

“I noticed that you said ‘Girls’ or ‘Women’ and not ‘People.’ Why is that?”

“It’s only women or girls who have what we were talking about.”

“Oh, well I think Rennie and Willa (cousins, 8 and 4 respectively) are going to crave candy.”

There was quiet for a moment as she thought.

“I’m more of a chocolate person, myself.”

Me too, Baby, me too.

Filed Under: Christopher, Eden, laughter

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