Though life is usually never dull for me, it is for the most part somewhat of the ordinary. This week, I worked on my taxes, cooked spaghetti and meatballs and celebrated my 46th birthday. However, in the midst of my circumstances of living an ordinary life in what may be considered unordinary circumstances by some, things happen from time to time that are.......well.........that of the unthinkable.
My Thursday work routine usually begins around 3:00 pm and goes until about 9:00 pm and I have students in 5 different locations. It was about 6:45 and I was on my way to my 4th location where I teach two young boys of an Ethiopian family. As usual, I enter their home, take off my shoes and make my way to their piano where I begin my work. As I began, my hands were shaking and my throat was dry. I did what I could to stay focused on my work with this young man but I remained distracted. As the lessons continued, the sweet spirit on these young boys were source of serenity for me as I continued to work with them. After an hour, their lessons were over and it was time for me to move on. I left their home only to find myself once again at their doorstep minutes later.
"Please, come in." The father said warmly. I took a seat on the cozy sofa in the living room as the news was shown on the television. I was offered dabo kolo and Czech beer as I would be staying a while. After a phone call to my last family informing them I would not make it that night and another call to my own family, conversation with the boys mom was pleasant.
Since they were late getting dinner started, I was there just in time. Though a steak dinner with African potatoes and rice was not on my agenda, I certainly was not going to turn it down. I dined with this family of 5 to include the parents, a nephew and the two boys while they ate their corn dog bites. We talked about church, traveling, family, life in Africa and music lessons. I have only known this family for about 3 months. It was both a memorable and enjoyable time.
With half a glass of beer remaining. It was time for me to go.
I was not sure exactly what I would expect to see as I would drive a quarter mile or so up the street. An hour prior when I had first attempted to leave the neighborhood after weaving around 4 out of 7 fire trucks numerous spectators and fire hoses on the drenched pavement, the blinding flashlight of a police officer came towards me. Appearing amused, the officer made sure I knew how ridiculous that even the though of getting by actually was. Feeling shook up, bewildered and endlessly apologetic, a kind fire fighter helped me to navigate my way back into the other direction. Even he became amused at the sight of a shaky blonde woman who seemed to be in need of driving lessons as she had to be redirected several times in order to not back into the mailbox from behind.
At about 6:50pm that evening I was worried about being 5 minutes late to my lessons which I feared would throw the remainder of my evening off. At that same moment I found myself following two fire trucks in the direction of the black smoke that filled the sky ahead. In my entire life of 46 years, I had never seen an actual house fire in real life. As I pulled into the neighborhood behind the fire truck through a smoke-filled street, I knew at that moment I would for the first time.......it was bad.
After this night, taxes, schedules and what we need at the grocery store that we just can't seem to live without for another day didn't really seem to matter now.
Last night. Wow. Just wow.
