Our first week’s journey into the impact on loss was supposed to be on “Loss of Time”… In fact, it was written and planned, and a few things happened and, as poetically as possible, it was going to be late. You know, because there was some serious loss of time happening, but then something grander took over my life, the SoCal fires.
As a lifelong SoCal resident, I am quite accustomed to earthquakes, drought, and wildfires. These are normal things. And I can assure you, what has happened this week was not normal. Massive unprecedented windstorms brought havoc to our streets, and these were newsworthy in themselves. Cue announcer voice: “Windstorm 2025 – breaking massive trees, creating chaos and debris in our towns.” But alas, that is not the story.
As of this writing, no less than six wildfires in SoCal are burning. Three of them brought massive loss of property and damage. The Pacific Palisades and Eaton fires have each taken at least 1,000 homes and are raging out of control with ZERO containment. The air quality is so bad that they closed down the entire Los Angeles United School District (LAUSD), the second largest in the nation with over 1,000 schools and 600,000 students. It looks like post-apocalyptic.
And the loss, unimaginable this loss. I am watching as people I love, dearly love, suffer. I am close to this, in location and in situation – but I am safe, and my home is a refuge at the moment.
We have lost amazing places in SoCal: restaurants full of memories, schools where our children learned, fantastic views charred with devastation. Things that will never be rebuilt. Things that will never be the same: a favorite clothing store, the dentist who fixed that tooth, the florist where those special flowers came from. There are no English words for either the collective loss we are all suffering with or for this horrible, deep individual loss.
A loss of a home – the loss of someone’s largest, and sometimes ONLY, asset is one thing. Add to that loss, the loss of everything ever owned. EVERYTHING. Many people I know had only the clothes on their backs; others were able to grab some paperwork.
Our brains do not know how to process this. When your entire existence doesn’t exist anymore: not the photo albums that didn’t get digitized, not the cool shirt from the band, not your father’s class ring.
We live in such safety at home; we are not in a war zone and we find solace in our walls – whether they are owned by us, or we rent a room from someone, whether our “roommates” are peaceful or toxic, whether our material things bring us joy or weigh us down – our homes bring us a mixed bag of familiar comfort.
I could look up some counseling websites on how to process this unimaginable loss and share pearls of wisdom, but frankly, I’m not in that headspace. The intent of this loss journey is to live through the grief, acknowledge the loss, and collectively share the pain.
Do not take for gratitude that pillow under your head tonight, that shower that surrounds you, or the mementos from your childhood. Recognizing the temporariness of “stuff” and knowing stuff will not bring you joy, but also that the complete loss of all of it, will shatter you to your core.
Nature is not f’ing around. So, let’s wrap up those who are impacted by it. I see you.
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Read: Navigating Loss: A Journey Together in 2025
Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.
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