Do you know what's in your closets and drawers?

Today marks one month since we lost our home, and we are still amazed at how quickly life can take a turn. Still, there was good news today: Our wonder dog Grete has recovered 100%! She received a clean bill of health from the vet. Also, a few of our recovered belongings returned from being "ozoned" (a.k.a. cleaned), including some jewelry, a handful of photos and documents from our fire-proof safe (fire-proof, but not water proof!).

Our current challenge is creating an inventory of everything we owned - from toothpicks to televisions - for purposes of our insurance claim. Believe me, this is not an exercise anyone would choose to do for fun. In fact, when expressing our frustration to the insurance adjuster, he said "yep, this is about the point when everyone gets frustrated." Without being able to look around at our stuff, we are attempting to identify each item, when and where we bought it, and what it will cost to replace it. It is the most laborious, tedious thing I have ever had to do, and stretches a person's sanity. Some items can be bundled, but that only solves part of the problem. It's also depressing to think of things we won't be able to replace, like a favorite baseball glove or the Christmas stockings my grandma made.

However, wedding registries are saving the day. First of all, my mom found ours, along with a complete list of the gifts we received for our wedding 13 years ago. This find is amazing in itself, and tremendously helpful for our documentation efforts.

Secondly, our friend Robyn is brilliant. She suggested using the wedding registry systems at the stores we frequent to efficiently collect current prices. So, Matt and I spent five hours at various stores on Sunday walking around with a scanner, each time leaving with a print-out of items we owned and their prices. Did I mention how brilliant Robyn is? This was especially effective at Target, where we literally walked up and down every aisle identifying things from our house.

I've lost track of how many total hours we've spent on this project, and there is still no end in sight, but at least there's progress!

The explosion

Earlier this week, a new hair stylist asked me where I lived. When I replied that I lived near 50th and France, she asked, "So, did you hear that big house explosion?"

Everybody within at least six blocks of our house heard the explosion. A bank manager on France Avenue said he was standing in the middle of the branch office when the massive boom shook their windows. He and many others in the area darted for their front doors assuming that it was their own house or office that was about to fall.

Our dear next door neighbor was in her family room with her five year old son. Fire fighters were standing on the street in front of the house. Other neighbors witnessed our house as it senselessly crumbled and burned. How could you erase that image from your mind? How could you move beyond that fear?

We've had a lot to deal with the past few weeks, but I am so grateful that I neither saw nor heard the explosion. Somebody I work with sent me this quotation from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." Sending my love and strength to our neighbors as they work to overcome this tragic memory.

Grief

Despite holding it together most of the time, there are moments when it all seems overwhelming. This is one of those moments. I had just flipped open my laptop to check e-mail and update the blog when I heard crying from upstairs. I ran up the stairs to check on whomever was upset, and found Marit sitting in the middle of her room, cross legged, bawling, and repeating the words, "I...want...to...go...home" in between her sobs. I scooped her up, hugged her tightly and gently reminded her that this is home. As I tucked her back into bed, she quickly drifted off to sleep. Now, I'm back at my laptop, googling "grief in children," mad at myself for assuming Marit wouldn't be as affected by this as the rest of us, thinking about calling a friend who is a grief counselor, and just wishing I could make it better for her.

The little stuff

It is amazing how many little things you rely on in your house without really thinking about it. Last week, I actually purchased a tweezers. I don’t remember ever buying a tweezers before – I just had one and used it from time to time.

Last Thursday at work, a coworker commented on my new haircut. I had to explain that I had not actually had a haircut; buying a hairdryer simply hadn't made it to the top of my to-do list yet. (However, you can be sure this prompted me to finally buy one.)

At one of our hotels, Annika found a safety pin on the floor, and excitedly rushed to me to say, “Mom, our first safety pin!!” Yes, I guess it’s time to start collecting things again.

Home

We moved into the town house last Wednesday that we plan to stay in until our new home is built. It is a standard two-level, with three spacious bedrooms upstairs. We have furniture and basic house wares from a leasing company, and closets and drawers to start filling. It feels great.

Our first night here Marit asked me, “Is this home or another vacation?” Over the past two weeks, whenever we referred to my parents’ house or our hotel as “home,” Marit would dispute it and say, “that’s not home. Home is yellow.” (Our house was actually light brown, but who’s going to argue.) She preferred to refer to our hotel as “the building,” and once explained to me, “A fire bumped over my house and now I need to live in a building.”

After being here several days, Marit seems to have accepted that this is home for now, along with the rest of us. I’m sure we’ll have some fun memories here. It’s hard not to have fun when you have a two-year-old princess to keep you on your toes.

Where's Waldo?

Canvassing our property for remnants of our belongings is a bit like playing "Where's Waldo." On our first visit, Matt and I did not see much that was recognizable. Pieces of our duvet cover, scraps of the living room window treatments, and a Vikings sweatshirt were about all that we could identify. It was a surreal site. The next day, we toured the damage to our neighbors home, and could see miscellaneous items from Marit's bedroom in their garage, tangled up with wood, siding, glass, etc. Insulation was sprinkled around the neighborhood, as were the valentines that Annika had received from her classmates and proudly placed on top of her dresser.

To date, we've recovered only a few items, but they are meaningful ones: a favorite family photo still intact in its frame, a small quilt that Matt's mom had made for Marit, and a special canvass painting from Annika's room. Like our dog, it is a mystery how these particular items survived, but we will hold them close.

Although we have lost most of our "things," we feel abundant in the things that matter most. Family, friends, friends-of-friends, neighbors, current coworkers, former coworkers, church members, teachers, school administrators, classmates, girl scouts, daycare buddies, local businesses, and complete strangers have given us the encouragement and support we needed the past two weeks, and equipped us with the necessities. Through the wonders of Facebook, a high school classmate orchestrated an abundantly successful drive to collect clothing, toys, and donations, and put many smiles on the faces of our girls. We are blessed by everyone's generosity and sure hope we can find enough ways to pay it forward!!

Wonder Dog

In one of our favorite new animated movies, "Up", the dogs have high-tech collars that allow them to say just what's on their mind ("Squirrel!"). Lately, we've been wishing that our nine year old black lab, Grete, had one of those collars.

By the fire chief's account, Grete was probably launched from our house by the explosion. A good samaritan and pet-lover driving by at just the right moment saw a charred dog running erratically through traffic, and followed her half a mile until she could coerce Grete into her car. The police suggested she take Grete to Westgate Pet Clinic.

Because Grete was a regular Westgate patient, the clinic had her records with Matt's cell phone number, and called him to let him know that Grete was safe. Oddly enough, Westgate was the first to notify Matt that something was wrong. Matt was in Amsterdam on business, and learned of the accident via Westgate within minutes of when I received the news.

Grete's injuries included burns around her ears and nose, red, blurry eyes with reduced tear production, and sliced-off pads on three of her paws. We are proud to say that as of TODAY, Grete no longer needs daily visits to Westgate, has graduated from the protective wrappings on her feet, and is truly returning to her normal self! She still has medication for her eyes and burns, but all-in-all, she is doing amazingly well. She is a wonder dog.

We are so grateful for the excellent care and generosity from Westgate Pet Clinic. They have adopted Grete as their own wonder dog and provided extra special care, thereby taking care of all of us. We also appreciate others who have reached out to help Grete with her recovery, including Karen, who tracked us down through Fox9 news to donate one of her handmade dog beds, and friends of SideWalkDog.com who have donated food and a kennel. The media continues to express interest in Grete's story as well.

I have an image in my head of Grete emerging from the smoke and fire with a red cape on, bravely racing to safety. If there are any witnesses out there that can help crystalize this picture for me, I'd love to hear from you!

"I think it's your house"

On the afternoon February 23, 2010, I received a phone call at work from a friend in our neighborhood. She was upset, but to the point. "This is a horrible phone call to make...a gas leak...an explosion..." And then I heard the words that left me in shock and disbelief for several days: "I think it's your house."

That moment was the beginning of a new journey for the Augustson family. It has been 10 days since our home was leveled by a gas explosion, and I have stories to fill a lifetime. There are literally hundreds of people who have reached out to share their support, concern and relief that we are all OK, and we couldn't be more appreciative of their thoughtfulness.

Ironically, I created this blog, Arden Moments, on February 22 for a class I am taking in Web 2.0. I planned to chronicle the fun moments in our lives at our home on Arden Avenue. This blog has a slightly different purpose for the short term, but someday soon we'll return to our simple life and I can go back to unabashedly bragging about my sweet, resilient girls.