What I Would Save In Case of A Fire

Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.
- Oscar Wilde

I love a thought provoking question or an if/then statement where you have to fill in the blank. “If money were no object. . .”, “If you were marooned on a desert island. . .” or “If you had six months to live. . .” Why, I could wax on while completing those statements! So why does writing an anecdote about what I would save in case of a fire in my house have me going round in circles? I think it’s because there are so many obvious things I’d want to round up and throw out a window to safety if my house were ablaze.

First and foremost, our family “papers” and some other small family keepsakes are kept at home in a locked, fireproof, steel box or away in our bank safety deposit box. Birth certificates, insurance policies, car titles, patriarchal blessings, passports, etc. are securely tucked away. Along with those papers there are random things, like an old collection of silver dollars or a ring my grandmother bequeathed to her only granddaughter – me!

On the other hand, there are some things not protected by any type of steel box and their loss would devastate me. Here’s a sampling of the laundry list: family photos and records which include the recent acquisition of a picture of and a story about my great-great grandpa John Bunyan Thompson who ran a farm along Pig Basket Creek in Wilson County, NC; my children’s baby books which include a lock from a first haircut or a scrap of a beloved blankie; my personal journal which I began while awaiting the birth of my son in 1977; my book collection which includes yearbooks from Oakton and Madison High Schools; or the child-size rough hewn rocking chair that belonged to my great great grandpa Tavenner. All these things are dear, yet there is one other precious item I would want to save from a fire. That is the surprise gift my husband gave me at the stroke of midnight, the dawn of a new millennium, on New Year’s Eve 1999. It is a small gold heart pendant and yes, it could be replaced. But the thought, effort and love put into that gesture are priceless. I hope that one day a great granddaughter of mine will wear that necklace in remembrance of me -- or, better yet, stash it away in a locked, fireproof, steel box of her own.