Nearly one year ago, this was the view of my aunt and uncle’s home the day after an electrical fire. I’ll never forget the events of that night. The frantic calls trying to reach them, to let them know what was happening, the relief that there were no injuries, the grief of knowing so many cherished memories and treasured items were being consumed, the uncertainty of what the future held, the steadfast support of our family, and the unfailing faith in our Father.
Tonight, we came together. Family. Food. Fun. Photos. We laughed and cried, and looked through old albums, and thought about the stack of charred images fused together in a sloppy mess still stuck in a small tub in the garage – too precious to throw away in spite of everything. I love the beauty of the way we not only reveled in the family history we saw captured in 4×6 frames bound in books or collected in totes, but also that all the while, we snapped new pictures of these moments – too precious to be forgotten in spite of everything.
This post was written as part of a monthly challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers, to encourage writing and community. The goal is to write a Slice of Life entry each day throughout the month of March.