The Nellie Has Landed

September 13th, 2010
Six Days After the Fire

Hi All,

Nellie and I have landed safely in Boulder, after a long, windy drive across Wyoming. As we came down from Cheyenne, I saw a pillar of smoke and thought, Oh My God, it’s still burning? As I got closer, I saw it was in Loveland, and a strange sense of relief and sorrow gripped me. Relief that it wasn’t yet another fire in Boulder; sadness for the folks in Loveland.

My friends whose homes did not burn say they feel somewhat guilty – why not them? Why us? Wildfire has a mind of its own, as we all know. It’s like a tornado that rips down a farmhouse but leaves the barn untouched. The strange, grand Mind of Nature, the great mystery of devastation. Floods, fires, earthquakes, mud slides; as Rosanne Rosannadanna used to say on Saturday Night Live, “It’s always something.”

We finally made it to Boulder, and as we came off the Diagonal, Nellie began to jump around the car expectantly. “Home, are we going home now?” she seemed to say. She looked puzzled when we pulled into Beth Hayden’s house. Then when she saw Beth she wagged wildly and ran into the house – “Oh, we’re at Beth’s! Yaaay!” I sighed. If I could learn to be as flexible as a dog, I’d be in really good shape.

Nellie is my inspiration — Cheerful no matter what, transparent in her feelings, and completely focused on the moment. Right now she’s curled up on my feet, waiting for whatever comes next, which she will no doubt embrace with her dog-like enthusiasm. “Chautauqua? We live here? Hey, is this my room? Cool! Look – Squirrel!!!!” Sigh. There is just nothing like a dog.

Last night Andrea and Dana Meyer came over to Beth’s and we all had pizza and played Quiddler, a silly card game. After the initial hugs and tears, it all felt normal. Dana made bad jokes, as usual. Beth was desperately trying to beat me, since I usually win. (Andrea made a last minute rally and whipped us all in the end – a shocking upset!) No kid gloves, but lots of compassion. I got to be mad and obsessive and make bad jokes about the fire. Just another party night at Beth’s.

So this morning I’m going to do some laundry, gather up my stuff and head over to the cottage, then unpack the car and start this new phase of life, and see where it takes me. This is a holy moment, a hinge, the rest between measures of life. As musicians often say, it is the rest between measures, the silence, that makes the music. The symphony of loss, the music of dissolution, and then out of the silence, a few notes, a melody, the tune of my new life. I’m listening …

Thank you again for your love, your strength, your kind words and good thoughts, and offers to help. I will see you at potlucks, at writing events, at all the little places and intersections that happen as we move through our lives in Boulder. I’ll continue to heal, and rage, and stomp around, and laugh, and make ridiculously long to-do lists, and then cross things off, one by one. And in a year, I hope, I can be like Nellie, and run around my newly built home and say, “We live here? Is this my room? Cool! Hey look — Squirrel!”

Sending you tail wags,
Andi