NEDERLAND — I’ve called myself tenacious a lot lately. Well, I’ve called myself a lot of things, because I am generally not nice to myself, but tenacious is the nicest I can come up with for a community-oriented column.
The email came in on Friday, February 6. After several back-and-forth emails, my request was granted to walk into the burn site and look inside our unit. I’ve asked almost every day since the fire. James said he would leave Boulder in 15 minutes and meet us at the site.
I grabbed one of our friends who could watch the music store, while Doug and I walked across the street. We were joined by a Boulder County sheriff and our local mental health aide, as well as a representative from Tebo Properties. For me, having the sheriff and mental health aide available was very comforting. My brain, body, and entire being have been quite stuck since that fateful day.
The mood was somber, but there were a couple of small smiles as we looked around and saw items that will surely be recovered at some point by other tenants. Things that have been mentioned that were missing. Treasures belonging to someone from one of the units.
In our Brightwood Music unit, we could see the outline of a wall, probably the bathroom wall, but hard to determine because it’s so far back. If anything was behind that space, it is likely not anything of value to us. We didn’t store much of anything in the bathroom.
One thing I noticed was the smell was gone. As we watched it burn October 9, it was prominent, and we breathed it all in for days. Even weeks. Every time we walked by there, the smell was so strong. I don’t smell it now, not like that. It’s settled somehow with the dust and debris.
Another thing I noticed was the wind and rain have taken some of the debris and pushed it around in the parking lot and the units. That was actually good news as far as access because we were allowed to go anywhere that did not have soot or objects on the ground.
We were not allowed to walk into the unit, which was not a problem. We could see what we needed to see simply by standing there. We looked in, we breathed deep, we let the feelings come, holding hands, absorbing the feelings.
The things I will personally miss the most are certainly burned up: the drawings by Doug’s brother and so many community kids, the cards, the letters we had accumulated that warmed our hearts. The irreplaceable instruments are, well, irreplaceable. The hard drive I lost that had over a decade of newspaper info, is gone.
But those are just things. This was our home away from home…our work and our lives…for over 10 years (16+ years in business). The loss of our space and connection with the community, harder to put into words. And even though we are well on our way to rebuilding, a lot of who we are was in there. A lot of our Nederland identity was linked to that space where we met so many friends…made so many memories…were surrounded by so much community. The space that made us…and also broke us into tiny pieces.
And in the moment of looking in…and breathing in…and letting the feelings come…a tiny bit of hope happened. And a feeling of letting go…a long-sought-after feeling…became a reality.
And for that there is so much gratitude. As we walk forward on our path…It begins with what happened when we could just look inside.
I want to personally give a huge thanks to everyone who continues to support us…our new space…our dreams of continuing to bring music and happiness to the greater Peak to Peak region. And extra special thanks to those who understand we all process differently. Apparently I process quite loudly at times…thanks for putting up with me.
Today...forward and focused is the goal. Moment by moment. Out of chaos…hope….
