an early thanksgiving.

it seems like most bad things happen so fast you can't see them coming or going.
i'm on the phone with my mom, loading logs in our wood burning stove and adding a little gas to the slow burning fire. a sharp flash of light and searing heat on my face and thirty seconds later, madelyn is crying "mommy i don't like you like this. i liked you before. i just liked you the way you were before. i don't like your hair like this i don't like you like this"
i am on my knees sopping up diesel spilled thick all over the tile, too overwhelmed with what has happened and too soon to feel any pain, wondering how bad it is and just thankful.
my babies were a room away.
it took me a few minutes to break down. after consoling madelyn that i will look normal again; after a quiet trip to the mirror; after reassuring my mother who waited agonizing minutes on the phone six thousand miles and oceans away after listening to her oldest daughter complain about the pina colada weight she'd gained, that she needs to get those miniboden skirts for mj, then throwing the phone, screaming, hurt.
burned.
i passed olivia to my sweet maid fabi who ran to me (and in her voice i could hear worry, i know i heard love.) i ran to my closet and locked the door and sobbed. i cried because i was scared. i cried because it hurt. i cried because i was thankful i wasn't holding a baby, my hair was pulled back and my glasses protected my eyes. i cried because christian was two hours away and i needed his arms, his priesthood, his eyes, his voice.
i couldn't speak at first, but i knew he would be scared by my crying on the phone, stronger now with fear and adrenaline. i quickly told him everything was okay and i was just upset, finally feeling all the stress and fear of the last few minutes. he listened quietly until i felt better and told me to shower and call him in a few minutes. he loves me.
the shower stream slowed to a trickle and i stood washing out chunks of singed hair and gently soaping soot off my burned hands and face. why today, when i need you. thinking of the water, meaning christian. thinking of all the people in my life who would love me no matter what. thinking of nie nie. thinking of fire. thankful. praying.
out of the shower i can see the kiss of red burn on my lips, my nose. my eyebrows now shorter and misbehaved, a crown of hair burned short and wild around my face. i think for once i have traded vanity for thankfulness.
i wrapped my clean wet hair in a tight bun at the nape of my neck. i carefully smoothed black speckled burn ointment all over the smooth skin of my face. i put on the softest clothes i could find. i pulled out christian's sweatshirt, the one he wore last night with a big smile gliding around on mady's new plasma car. last night, when we had so much fun and happiness and each other and didn't realize. like everyday. i wrapped his soft grey hoodie around me like a hug and missed him some more. kissed these girls that are our love. (but cuter.)
as much as these little burns hurt, it feels good to feel. i am happy in this early thanksgiving. i didn't realize it last night, but it's not just the bad times that come and go so fast. it's the good times too.
christian called to tell me he would love me even if i looked like chewbacca. i know i would love him too.
today i am thankful for love without vanity.