
Up until last summer fire had more good memories than bad. I use to love having bonfires; watching the flames just dancing in the darkness. I was always the one who would throw something on the fire and laugh as it exploded and scared everyone else. My favorite prom memory was after the prom building a giant fire with my friends. There have been nights I have built a small fire just for myself and sat and enjoyed the night.
My brain knows that a bonfire isn't the same as the fire that damaged our belongings but it's hard to get past it. I don't want to wonder with each flicker of a flame if it is going to get out of control and destroy something. I don't want to get scared every time I smell smoke. I don't want to think the worse all of the time.
Last week was the first time I had been around a bonfire since the fire. I was a little nervous at first, I kept joking with my dad that maybe it wasn't a smart idea given our bad luck. We were burning branches from some pine trees we had chopped down that had the potential to fall on our house. After a little while I settled down and helped with keeping it burning.
At the back of my mind though I never could remove the thought, what if? I know that this isn't always going to be this way, the memory is already starting to not be as strong. I'm thankful that I now have more of a respect for fire. Fire can be an amazing thing when controlled but very destructive when out of control. I makes me ponder how many other elements of our life are the same.