her home, its contents and her car are total losses.
My co-volunteer for the Tuesday night meeting at the prison just called to let me know her house burned to the ground last week. I've been in her home one time, probably four years ago, and I still describe it to people, as it was filled with antiques and memorabilia.
All of it lost.
My friend is a musician. All her music, her violin, all the busts of Beethoven that filled the nooks and crannies of the house. All gone.
She's an animal lover. Her dog is okay, and her horses, but she can't find the cats.
She lost her mother several years ago, and her father just last year. All the photos … gone.
All her clothing. Her identity. Her books.
I'm at a loss for words.
But I do know where two too-big-for-me sweaters will be going. I just wish it were for a different reason.