I Could Not Save Them

I woke with a wet face from tears flowing, repeating  “I could not save them”.    I had not had this flashback for many years.  No matter how long I had spoken about it with my therapist, it still comes back to haunt me in times when I am feeling helpless.  It is as if I am right back there in time.  The helplessness I felt, the emptiness, the loss of 3 little lives.  The more I cannot sleep, the darker the circles under my eyes get.  People look at me and ask if I am okay.  Allergies I tell them.  I cannot say if they believe the lie I just gave them but in all honesty, I really do not care.   

It was back in the 70’s.   Steve had started working at the school that I worked at.  I was introduced to Dorothy.  We became good friends.  In that time Dorothy had accepted Steve’s proposal for marriage.  Dorothy had children from a previous marriage.  Two daughters and 3 little boys.  I cannot remember if they had been triplets or not.  It was so many years ago.  All I remember is hearing their screams.  Screaming for their mama.   

The wedding was wonderful.  I met a lot of Dorothy’s family.  I started spending more time with them at the farm Dorothy had.  The house was warm and inviting.  The smell of fresh baked cookies and bread is what I remembered the most.  And the coffee pot was always going.  

It was one night that we had been out to their place to have a meal with them.  I left about 9 that night.  We got home, I put my son to bed and had taken a shower and wanted to read.  I ended up falling asleep in the recliner and that is when I got the call.  A fire had broken out where we had come from earlier.  I hollered to my husband telling him what was going on as I wrapped my son up to take him to my neighbors house, telling them I did not know when I would be back and headed to their farm. Bob had already left in the school van, I, in my car. 

Half of the house was ablaze.  I could see a few people from a distance but did not know who they were.  As I got closer, I could see Steve and Dorothy but that was all.   I heard someone shout my name.  It was one of the paramedics on my team, working on a young woman.  It was Dorothy’s daughter, Melanie.  She had tried to go into the burning building to try to save her brothers and had received 2nd degree burns on her hands, wrists and some on the side of her face.  Dorothy had been taken to the hospital. They had made sure Steve went with her. The fire department went in but could not get anywhere near the stairs that would lead them to the boys.  The fire was so hot even the truck’s ladder could not get close enough and with the building showing signs of caving in, they could not enter. 

I had put on a spare firemans coat and helmet and started to go in and one of the boys grabbed onto me. He picked me up so I could not move while I was screaming for him to let me go. I kicked and shook to get away from him and it took two to keep me away from the fire. I do not think anyone’s heart wasn’t affected as we had to stand by and hear those little boys cry and scream for their mama, and us not able to do anything at all.  The top of the house then collapsed onto the floor beneath it. That was when I crumbled. All I remember is that I was picked up and sat against the fire engines steps. We were covered in soot and some of us had some burn marks on us. A bit of my hair was singed. Why could not it had been me instead of those boys. Numb. All I felt was completely numb. Staring at what was just a few hours ago.

I stayed pouring over the remnants of the burnt building, helping others to find the 3 boys and anything that would point to the cause of the fire. It seemed the hours turned into days. I tried to think of anything but what I knew I would find. My first thought was how it was nosy to be going through someone else’s stuff. What right did we have to invade another’s personal life. I thought of anything so not to think of what was eventually going to be found. I also prayed with every step that I took. I had to borrow a pair of the mens boots so I had to scuff around and even fell at times, tripping over God knows what. I prayed for their souls. I prayed to find them quickly. It was perhaps a half hour later when we found them. All huddled together. Arms wrapped around each other. Burnt yet recognizable as 3 small children. I had to get out of there. I had to get some air. I fell a few more times getting out of the building. I remember kicking the boots off and running around the side of their barn and puking my guts out. I just crumbled to the ground and sobbed. When I could hear the others hollering my name, I knew I had to pull myself together to join them.

I remembered the funeral.  The fire department, most of the school was there along with Dorothy’s church members.   What has made me think of this now?   My friend lost her son.  He shot himself at only 24 years old. 

Triggers, they call them.  The last time I had woke up with a wet face and saying that I could not save them was back when I lived in the UK.  Back when the back of the store I worked at was set on fire. The feeling of being “helpless” in situations is what sets it off.  I know I could not have saved Joey.  And in all honesty, I know I could not have saved those three little boys but I felt I should have. I felt that perhaps I had not thought of another way to get to them. 

This is when I miss having someone to hold me when I am going through something like this.  Do not get me wrong, I am proud that I am a strong woman.  I never cry.  Tears may fill my eyes or run down my cheeks but I am not a sobbing out of control woman.  I have always been the strong one for everyone else.  It is all I know.  It is what I do.  I do not know what it is like to have someone who can be strong for me. 

I had a shit night for sleep last night.  It would be so nice to snuggle up to someone who I felt safe with in hopes of getting a good nights sleep.  Just to know someone was there for me.  Someone to hold me when I am like this. Yet I go on being strong.  God forbid if anyone ever found out that I am a gob of mush inside.  

I continue to wake up in tears. I wonder if it will ever end. I keep going over everything step by step trying to find anything that I may have missed. It drains the life out of me. Days later I may not think so much of it…..until the next time. Then it is right back, the same nightmare. And here I am alone, with no one to talk it out with. No one to hold me when I need it the most. No one to help me make sense out of everything.

I tell myself to stop pissing and moaning yet I find I sit and relive everything over and over in my mind. There must have been something I could have done. Why did I not see that one thing that could have saved those little boys. I may never find the answer. Now, if I could not think. Period.