Memories...

So this is where I spent the best part of my Sunday, out in the boonies of West Odessa.

Ricky's mom and dad moved to Odessa, TX about 26 years ago from Ojinaga, MX. They had 13 kids total, and his dad built that house they grew up in with the help of the older kids and mom.

In 1999, Ricky's dad died suddenly. Leaving behind his legacy in photographs, studio recordings of his days as a musician (he was probably one of the best saxophone players around, and many remember him) and that house, his last project.

So when he got the call today, I knew the pain he was going through was more than simply loss of material goods. He asked me to go with him to the site of the fire, and my stomach turned into knots. I'm never any good in tragic situations or catastrophes. I turn into this useless lump that's in the way and has no comforting words. But I stopped myself from saying the immediate "No, I don't think I can deal with the sadness." I stopped myself from doing what comes natural to me in these situations, which is to lock myself in my room and not really talk about what happened. I decided he needed a friend there, and I decided to not be selfish...for this wasn't about how hard it would be on me, but others that were in need.

The ride there was quiet, and my stomach became increasingly upset. It was the mixture of nausea, vomit coming up and GOD I NEED PEPTO I usually get when I'm nervous. I didn't even look at him really, because I knew what he was thinking...and what the rest of the family at the site was thinking. As we turned onto a road that was close to the street we had to take to the house, I just heard a sob...and my heart broke, ached, dried up at the sound. I knew he couldn't hold it together. He was thinking about...

As we finally pulled up into the street where the house was, there were cars and emergency personnel everywhere. Because he was family, we were allowed to park past the barrier and closer to the home. At this point we got out of the car and had that rapid step one has when headed to face the inevitable, you just need to get it done with. I followed quietly, letting him take the scene in. The house was pretty much a total loss. His mom was sitting in a folding chair across the street from her now blackened and dead home. She was okay, so that was a relief. The sister and her kids..and her kids' kids that lived there with his mom were okay too. Another relief. But, as all the siblings greeted each other and hugged with their mom, I knew that I had been right about what they were thinking. They were thinking about...

They weren't thinking about material things. It wasn't that their mom's only dwelling place and everything she owned was gone. She even joked about losing her dentures in the fire, and not having any underwear for later. It wasn't that the sister and her daughter with two kids of her own had nowhere to go at all, and had nothing left either...even diapers for the 1 month old. They joked that at least the Red Cross found them a hotel room and diapers for 3 days. Hell...as poor as all the brothers and sisters are, they were still 12 in total and even by giving a little bit they could at least provide the basic until help came.

As I watched them hug and cry for a long time, it was like watching a family greet each other when a family member has died. You know how it is...everyone's calm and collected until another member of the home gets there and it starts the crying and wailing again. Ricky's little sister was a sight, devastated, 7 months pregnant and just looking at the home that held for her what she loved most. What they all loved most. It was the last gift...living memory of their dad. Their dad had died all over again. The last thing built with his hands, the memories they had as a family there with him...they were all gone.

I just stood aside and felt helpless, because you can't replace the memories. The house will be rebuilt, and everyone will eventually find a place again...but the bricks layed there along with the memories they all had of Dad's laugh and cusses and good moments/bad moments...they were burnt to the ground. Today I witnessed a wife mourn her husband a second time. I saw 10 people ages 23 and up, transform into children with lost eyes and endless tears for a father gone.

I traced my converse on the sand and shifted from feet to feet, uncomfortably aware that when my time came to lose my parents...I'd face it alone. I'd have no siblings to comfort or comfort me, no one to share my memories of the times we spent as a family and I felt angry at my parents for letting me be an only child.

When that time comes...I'd like for ya'll to be there.

Ricky: I'm sorry for your loss, then and now. You're probably thinking that if he were alive, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe. But he'd be damn proud to see all his kids come together and take care of your mom. Whenever you need me, I'm here too.

LINK TO NEWS ABOUT THE FIRE