Just over a week ago, Monday, February 11, 2019, our a-frame cabin that we have been renovating for the past year burned to the ground. It’s been a hard week and I thought if I stepped away from everything for a little bit, I would be able to come back with all the answers to the questions I’m sure you have. To maybe lift some of the emotional weight that so many of you have lifted from me over the past week—thank you. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers and I told our friends, I know it’s all going to be okay in time, but right now—I’m just sad. So we’ve been taking time to just mourn over the loss of everything we worked hard on, everything we were looking forward to, all the things that the cabin was for us. And it has been rejuvenating, in a way. I think if we jump right from tragedy to “everything happens for a reason” (which, I don’t neccessarily believe, although I do believe good can come from everything) then we lose out on a lot of grieving and learning and healing that has to take place and is still very much taking place on our end.
In this grieving the past week, a lot of tears have been shed in gratitude. If you follow me on Instagram stories, you know that the weekend leading up to the fire, we went up to our cabin as a family and Chris and I renovated the bathroom in the loft area in between dance parties and hot chocolate and morning dips in the hot tub. We left Sunday morning, and on Monday morning Chris got the text with a video our cabin on fire from a mechanic in the area. We easily could have been there as an entire family. We left 24 hours before and were headed up the morning of the fire to take photos of the bathroom we had just completed. We could have been there. Ultimately, that is what has been keeping me up at night. Multiple fire investigators are still working to determine the cause, though right now we think it started in the furnace room. I go through it all in my head over and over, what it would have been like to get our whole family out safely if we had been there. Lots of anxiety and trauma around the what-ifs, that I’m working to let go of.
Monday morning, Chris had just dropped our oldest off at school and he called me. His voice was shaking when he said “I just want to preface this by saying, “Everything is going to be okay. Our cabin is on fire.”
We both collapsed on the floor in tears when he got home and just kept repeating “how?! HOW?! I don’t understand?” The fire department was already on the scene and it was a long 70 minute drive to the cabin. We didn’t talk or listen to anything. Just cried.
And I know it sounds strange, because there was nothing living in the cabin when the fire broke out (thankfully!), but sometimes I just start crying thinking about when the fire started, how the cabin must have been feeling. I can’t help but feel like it was scared. That it was screaming. That ultimately, it coaxed us to leave Sunday morning sooner than we had planned, so we could be safe. To us, our a-frame had a pulse. We had only bought her 15 months prior, but it felt like a part of our family. I feel like I lost a member of our family that we had shared two Christmases with. One glorious summer. Girls weekends and couples weekends. Endless family overnighters. We fixed her up and made her our own and poured so much love into her and in return, we get to keep all those memories.
Don’t wait. I say it often, but it bears repeating now, don’t wait to make memories. Don’t wait until the walls are painted or the holes are patched or the shiny new appliances arrive to make happy memories in your home. It’s the reason we do what we do, and it’s what we have left now. And I’m so grateful.
We don’t have all the answers to what’s next. But we know we’re lucky. And we’re alive. And we have a big community cheering us on. And that makes me know that something good is going to come from these dark days. And whatever that looks like, we’ll always remember fondly our dear cabin, and how much we loved it.
Thank you
Our cabin burned 🔥 down May 13th…in Lac du Bonnet Manitoba…we are in shock….and know that we will get through it!
I’m so so sorry to hear! It’s just devastating.
I am so sorry. I survived a house fire and a hotel fire. So, I know the rollercoaster of emotions. The blessing is you have happy memories from the time it was in your life!!!
I read about your cabin fire on Emily Henderson’s blog and it rocked me to the core. First, I want to say, eventually, life does return to normal and you WILL be okay. I say this with certainty because my family lost our primary house to a fire nearly ten years ago. This type of event (whether by fire, flood, hurricane…etc.) shakes the foundation out from under you for awhile….it just DOES. We found ourselves reeling, aimless, devastated, exhausted – there are so many words to describe all the feelings you will feel. And I’m here to say it’s healthy to let yourself feel ALL OF IT. The grief, anger, fear, hopelessness….you have to process through it. And while I am a believer in “things happen for a reason,” I also told my two young boys that sometimes we never know the “reason.” It just happened. And it sucks. BIG TIME. But I also had my FAITH – spiritual and emotional faith – that life goes on and my family of four was safe (three of us were home when our fire started). We lost family pets which was the most tragic part of the fire. Not the contents or the house itself, but the living, furry family members we shared our lives with were taken from us. That was the hardest part. But still….we healed. We got new pets and while they are not replacements for the ones we lost, they are loved for who they are and the love they give back to us. You will find that even though you put all the hard work into making your cabin a wonderful, family retreat, that indeed, it is all just STUFF. I have such a different view of material possessions since our fire. Yes, there are things that we lost that I truly, deeply, regret not having anymore, but when I look at my husband and two sons, all of that seems so trivial to what could have happened if one or more of us had not gotten out of the house. So give all of you time to process through this massively sorrowful chapter of your lives, but remember that it is exactly that – a CHAPTER in your long, beautiful, family STORY. Keep reading…..it gets better, eventually, I promise. God bless your family!
We’ve been remodeling our ski cabin right along side of you. All the while saying….I really would love an A-frame someday. I shared a lot of your posts with my (non Instagram) husband. He especially loved when you painted the exterior black. I’ve been staying off social media lately as to try to be a role model for my teenagers. I just heard about the fire today. My heart hurts for you as we all know how much you loved it there.
I am truly sorry. Take this time to connect with your family and be thankful you are all together and safe. You can make memories in your beautiful home. Focus on the positive. Someday you may have the answers to why this happened. It’s impossible to know the answers now, so don’t dwell on it.
I read about your tragedy on another blogger’s website and it shook me to my core. I, too, feel that houses have a pulse–and that the more love you pour into it, the more alive it becomes. We just bought a small fixer upper cabin on a lake in August and your post has encouraged me to make the most of all of it, whatever stage of renovation it is in, whenever and with whoever we can. We will be thinking about you guys as you soldier forward. And rejoice with you when you find the good in it.