Getting over the shock

I have spent the last 24 hours trying to grow strong, and get over the shock of the state of our dear farm. We arrive late on Saturday afternoon, with the bare essentials to survive the night. A port-a-cot for Sabina, a couch for us, a kettle, crockery, cutlery, pots. We don't even have a fridge. Just an esky packed full of ice. Not easy with a one year old child, still highly dependent on goat milk.

This is my husband's first visit since settlement. He does a quick round of the farm in the fading light, and returns distraught. I am not surprised. He has seen the glass in the shed, the left over cars, tractors, and of course the ash circle in the paddock. He feels broken. I can feel it. I am so glad I came yesterday. Today I am strong and I give him words of courage. He feels like he is sinking into a bottomless pit of helplessness. Nothing seems to soothe him. But I know where he's at. I was there yesterday. And I know that he can get over this. So I cajole, and push and prod.

He refuses to even take a shower. True ... it's very dirty, but the water is hot, and clean. The experience refreshing. I come out smelling sweet and looking happy. He goes to bed somewhat consoled.