After the fire crew arrived and began their scurry to put out the fire, I made a phone call to my best friend – the man I am dating.

Though he lived only minutes away, it seemed forever before he appeared as I kept watch for him.

Finally, I spotted him running down the long driveway (he had to park a couple blocks away due to the myriad of fire trucks and police cars blocking the street)…

I rushed toward him and was immediately engulfed in a hug.

We stood for a while and watched the flames spread as the crew worked diligently to contain the fire – all the while, not a tear did I shed; I couldn’t; everything just seemed so surreal – like one of those awful dreams I couldn’t wake up from; a horrible nightmare that I could not escape.

 

The thoughts that engulfed my mind (knowing my family was safe) were thoughts of my 17 year-old daughter’s birds – a Lovebird and a Conure – which she adored as though they were her children; she had a deep connection with them and I knew if something happened to them she would be devastated.

Several times over again I pleaded for the firemen to go in and get the birds, but their only concern was to put out the fire.

By the time the fire was finally out, one of the crew members went in briefly, only to return with a confirmation of what I feared…the birds were gone.

Though the fire itself did not reach them, they were unable to survive the smoke. How was I going to break the news to my daughter?

It was Memorial weekend and she was staying at a friend’s house.

 

She had planned to attend a festival in Seattle for her first time and had been looking forward to the event with excitement…I had to make the phone call that would shatter her heart.