Total Devastation

There was a fire very near my home a few nights ago. So close to home that it freaked me out for a couple of days. It was on the news. The building looked just like mine, and all I could think was: "That could have been me." I slept right through it...That scares the hell out of me.

And, just so you know, my number one recover-if-I-can item has changed. It was Minie's Salt Jar. That has now changed. Call me a crazy cat or pet freak...But first thing out of the house now is Maggie. Call me a nut, but it is a life....And I am responsible for it. We've had a talk...If I'm home - Go to the front door. If I'm not, go to the open window and SCREAM. (She hated the talk, by the way. It meant being held and confined for at least 30 seconds. Hell on earth for her. But I'm fairly certain she absorbed the important bits.)

One co-worker lived in the obliterated unit. She had no insurance. She lost everything. Everything. She has her car, her purse (waterlogged), and her daytimer. I think that is it. Luckily she had recently moved from a far away city, and her important family and historical things are still there. Still, I drive past that unit and think..."Her life is just gone. It just isn't there. Where it used to be, there is nothing."

I met Ben, who was in the next unit, last Thursday. He also had no insurance. He also lost everything. Came home just as the ceiling collapsed. He's hoping one photo album of his daughter can be salvaged. I've since learned she is nine and has cerebral palsy and is autistic. He was trying his best to be positive and glad he had his life. But you could see the loss and sadness just under the surface. Those blue, blue eyes looked vacant and haunted, instead of the deep pools I suspect they used to be.

So, Friday night the neighborhood clique met for post work/front porch drinks and then headed out to the local pubs. For me, two post work/front porch drinks are enough with the clique. I have no need to be part of their daily hanging out routine. "Good mornings" - Sure. "How was your day" - Sure. "Come have a beer" - Sure. But "Let's hang out every night and hit the bars"? - Not so much. So I headed home.

I guess Ben had also had enough. He sloughed off the party goers and gave calls home to the family as the excuse. I think the poor man had just had too much question and answer. They reaccomodated him in the unit right next door to me, and, as a neighbor should, I offered anything to help...Need a phone? Soap? Towels? Sheets? Anything? Just knock.

And knock he did. He was looking for soap and toothpaste. I had soap, towels, toothpaste, and a brand new toothbrush. As he was walking out, I realized there may be nothing in his new apartment....Literally, nothing. If he doesn't have a toothbrush, could he possibly have a couch or TV? So, I asked him to sit. Watch TV. Have a glass of wine. Talk if he wanted. Just sit if he didn't. He wanted some of both. The partying was too much, but so was being alone.

We sat and talked. And didn't talk. And sat close. And hugged. And one thing lead to another. And there was smooching. And feeling. And....More stuff. Not going to give exact details, but I'd like to think Ben left (the next morning) one very happy man. Don't know that I've ever given three in that short of a timeframe. Just call it my humanitarian duty. Me and the Red Cross.....We take donations.

Shortly after the action subsided and sleep was on its way....I realized...This man has been through one of the greatest traumas ever. And he's somehow keeping it together.

About 5am, he began to shake. And shudder. And make whimpering sounds and crying out. He'd wake up a minute. But the minute he went back to sleep, they started again. It was a frightening thing to witness. I'm an insomniac and have nightmares, so to watch someone go through something real life...Even in their sleep? Horrible. Discomforting. I just hugged him more.

Generally, "hook ups" roll over and sleep on their own side....They don't want the physical contact. Not this time. This guy needed it. If my hand left his chest, it was quickly pulled back. If I rolled away, he grabbed me. When the shaking started, I just rubbed...(Stop it, pervert). The chest, the back, the neck, the head, the leg.

I've never seen a human so in need of comfort. And, call me a slut...but I've also never been so willing to give it. The lithe physique, broad shoulders, steel grey hair and eyes, and nice tan didn't hurt. But I'd like to think I gave Ben just a little bit of comfort and peace that night. He needed human contact with no judgement or expectation.

I'm kind of glad I could be that.