We had a huge fire in our hometown. Thousands of people were evacuated, the fire ripped through neighborhoods and destroyed so many homes on the west side of town. We live on the East side, our home was safe and sound and even hosted Sean’s family while we were in Utah and they were evacuated. But, across town, off of highway 299, there is a little cemetery tucked under big oak trees and manzanita scrub brush. And in the middle of that cemetery, Max is buried.
For a few weeks while the fire was still burning, we couldn’t get through to Max’s Park. Everything around it had burned. I spent several hours googling “does granite burn” and wondering if there would be anything there when we got through. I know it was so insignificant compared to people’s actual homes and all of their belongings being lost, but I felt so sad. We have so little for Max, this is the one tiny place that is his, that we can go and visit him and keep his memory alive.
Finally, the roadblocks were removed and we went to see the damage. I drove through the main lawn and around the back loop… and was so thankful to see that Max’s area and those around him were preserved. Everything in a 360 direction was completely charred black- but miraculously none of the headstones were lost. I am so thankful! So thankful for answered prayers, even small seemingly unimportant ones.