Yesterday, my mother woke me to tell me that my aunt's house was being robbed, but that police had surrounded the house and apprehended the suspects. This morning my mother woke me again, but this time to say that the house that I grew up in, and that every succeeding generation has enjoyed, has been gutted by fire.
Again, my aunt was with us last night.
We have had heavy feelings for several days, wondering what was going on. Now we are all stunned at the rapid extent of the circumstances.
My aunt is the glue of our family. She is the one who has taken care of everyone. She is the one with a kind word,her last savings being spent on you for some frivolity you want. She is the one who says the prayers and tells you not to worry.
The whole neighbourhood knows her and loves her because she is generous to everyone. No one passes her house unhelped.
When something like this happens in your family, it feels like a very personal attack.
But the truth is, nothing could justify this situation happening to her. Nothing at all.
At this time, faith feels tested, life seems wicked, but we must turn from dramatic thoughts and look towards rebuilding, look towards better for all of us. We have not lost our family. We are pulling together. We know what matters.
My parents have the room to have her stay with us. We have already begun to rebuild.