On the first day of 2020, I lost my sense of humour. Usually, I’m a positive person, but the current bushfire situation pushed me over the edge.
“I’m tired of breathing smoky air,” I complained. “I’m fed up of watching fire updates and wondering if the fire is coming our way. I want life to return to normal.”
My husband Andy tried to make me feel better. “It will all be over soon.” But that’s not true. The fire has moved past our village, but now it’s threatening communities south of us, including our nearest town where our girls work. Many of our friends could soon be in the path of the flames.
I sighed. “We’re going to be watching this fire for a long time yet.”
Andy tried again. “When the fire is out, we’ll go somewhere, have a holiday.”
“But where? All our favourite places have been burnt. Down south, the land is burnt right up to the coast. Did you see the photos of the people sheltering from the fire on the beach? There’s nowhere we can go.”
I hadn’t finished complaining. “The smoke has given me a headache and a sore throat and it’s hard to run because I can’t breathe properly. I bet the smoke is making me sick. It’s inside me doing terrible things. I’m going to die. And when I do, you won’t be able to bury me. The ground is so hard because of the drought. You’ll have to wait until it rains. And that might take years.”
Andy laughed. “If we can’t bury you, we’ll cremate you instead.”
“No, you won’t! I don’t want to be turned into smoke and ash!”
My daughter Imogen had a suggestion: “If we put your body in the bush, the fire will do the job for us.”
Andy and Imogen giggled. They thought their words were very funny. Were they indulging in a bit of black humour? Or maybe smoky humour? Or ash humour? Or maybe they were just being unsympathetic and not funny at all. I certainly didn’t feel like laughing.
“There’s no escape,” I said. “We can’t change the situation. It’s out of our control.” But then I thought of something I could do.
I went to my bedroom and unpacked my evacuation bag. I hung my clothes back in the wardrobe. I took my toiletries to the bathroom. I put my few valuables away where they belong. “I’m not playing the fire game any more,” I announced. “Instead of watching the fire, I’m going to live my life. If the fire heads towards us again, I’m not going to run. I’m going to fight it!”
So what are the chances of the fire reappearing in our village? I think we’re fairly safe. Yes, a strong wind on a hot day might push the flames back towards us. (Next Saturday is predicted to be a bad bushfire day.) And we still have to be on the lookout for embers. But I no longer think we’re going to have to deal with a huge wall of fire burning towards us. Unfortunately, it’s someone else’s turn to face that possibility.
Most of the bush around us is now burnt out. It’s black and looks very sad. But it’s our protection. It’s what’s keeping us safe.
I got up this morning determined to resume my life. What do I normally do before breakfast? Run. I looked out the window and sniffed the air. It was fairly clear so I pulled on my shorts and t-shirt and laced up my shoes. Then I went down to the park and ran. For the first time, I ran through the burnt-out bush. The air is still far from fresh so I only ran 2.5 kms at a leisurely pace. And when I’d finished I felt good. I felt as good as if I’d run my best 5K ever.
This morning, I did something normal. There’s hope that life will return to what it used to be.
And now I’m smiling. I’ve regained my sense of humour. I can giggle at the thought of being cremated in a bushfire. Of course, if that really happened, I wouldn’t be laughing. Dead people don’t laugh. My family wouldn’t be laughing either. It would no longer be funny.
That’s the nature of black humour, isn’t it? It’s all about making fun of serious and sad situations. We laugh in the face of danger. Perhaps we shouldn’t because we might shock or upset someone. Or is it okay because it’s the giggles that help us to bear the pain?
Photos
I took these photos yesterday. Andy and I took the dogs for a walk through our bush. Everywhere there are blackened trees sitting in a sea of ash-covered ground. In the last photo, the left-hand side of the track is burnt. The right-hand side isn’t. The firefighters saved a strip of green bush that surrounds our park.
As I said, the bush looks very sad. It is sad not only for us but for the animals as well. Did our koalas and lyrebirds and kangaroos survive?
A Last Thought
Is it wrong to complain when we know that there are people worse off than us? Or is it okay to acknowledge how we’re feeling? Perhaps being honest helps. It relieves the stress. Then we can pick ourselves up and keep going. What do you think?
Oh Sue, I couldn’t imagine the level of stress of having to evacuate ones home in a few moments notice….trying to sleep at night and the smell of smoke in the air. I don’t blame you for longing for a normal day again without the worry. So glad to hear the fire has moved on, unfortunately it is someone else’s turn to worry. Praying for an abundance of much needed rain and the return of normal life to New South Wales as soon as possible. Thank you for keeping us updated and Happy New Year to you and your wonderful family.
Deb,
We had some good news this morning. The fire is no longer labelled as ‘out of control’. It’s ‘being controlled’. It will still be a long time before the fire is no longer burning, but the firefighters are now making some progress fighting it.
Lots of rain and a return to normal life sound wonderful. Thank you so much for your prayers. I pray that 2020 is a year full of blessings for you and your family!
Just as we can’t cry all the time, we can’t laugh all the time, either. Under such a stressful situation, I’m sure there are a whole range of emotions ready to come to the surface at any moment. What a blessing that you were able to run. A sense of normalcy, and a way to burn off tension, too. Continued prayers, Sue.
Kristyn,
Running is not important in the big scheme of things, but it’s been hard to accept that most days I can’t run because of the smoke. I persisted for a long time but then began to have breathing difficulties. The whole fire crisis has been an exercise in acceptance for us. Sometimes life is taken out of our control. That happens a lot, doesn’t it? We do what we can, pray and wait. And try not to lose our sense of humour! Thank you so much for your continued prayers!
So glad to hear you are okay. I cannot imagine dealing with that for weeks on end. I was also thinking about people with asthma and what a nightmare this has to be for them.
One of my oft-said mottoes is “Laugh or cry” because it’s true. Sometimes crying is the answer, but more often than not I choose to laugh. What else can I do? Sometimes hard situations demand that we find the humor and absurdity in it or it’s too much to bear.
Sallie
Sallie,
Yes, the air quality has been horrendous. Sophie has asthma and hasn’t been able to go outside most days. The smoke has been affecting everyone’s health. I heard that our smoke has travelled to New Zealand. I hope it’s not affecting their air quality too!
Laughing certainly helps when we’re enduring hard situations. Yes, if we don’t laugh we will cry!
Sallie, I’ve got very behind with blogs and comments and emails etc. I know you have kindly shared my books and other things I have written on your blog. I appreciate that very much. I’m sorry that I haven’t yet acknowledged that by commenting. Thank you for everything you have done for me!
Sue, I am so thankful that you and your family were spared. I checked on you a few days ago, but now our news media is covering the story and interviewing victims who have lost everything. I was so worried. My heart goes out to all being affected by the fires.I am praying for rain. We will have to catch up soon. For now I am grateful that you can joke about cremation by bush fires. ? Love and prayers, Patricia ❤️❤️❤️
Patricia,
It’s so good to swap comments with you! Thank you for stopping by to say hello. I often think about you and your gorgeous granddaughters. I hope things are going well for you and your family.
Yes, I can still joke. We’re surviving! We had a scare the other night when a new fire swept through our southern villages after dark, threatening the homes of family and friends. I stayed up all night listening to the reports hoping and praying that everyone was safe. A few homes were lost but the firefighters limited the damage.
We’ve had a couple of cooler days which I’m sure the firefighters appreciate. The smoke has even cleared a bit. I’m hoping the worst is over, but unexpected things keep happening. Fire is so unpredictable. We had a small amount of rain last night which felt good, but I hear it has interfered with today’s backburning operations. I imagine we need days and days of continual rain.
Thank you so much for your prayers and love. Sending lots back to you as well. xxx
Sue, you have been through so much! I’m glad the firefighters saved a strip of your bush and that you got out for a jog! Little things can make such a big impact for sure. There’s nothing wrong with a little gallows humor but we probably need to be careful. I used to really enjoy police dramas but less so now that I have children. A little boy was killed by an alligator at Disneyworld as he and his family were enjoying some festivities. A while later I saw a police drama dealing with the same subject that would have seemed far fetched and ridiculous before. I was sad and frightened thinking about an alligator killing one of my children. It’s amazing how are minds work, isn’t it?
I probably over thought my comment and it came out odd. I’m so glad you still have a sense of humor through all this!
Venisa,
I’m grateful for the green bush around our park and homes. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll be running along our main fire trail for a long time yet. Trees are falling in the burnt-out bush so it’s not safe. But we still have our park!
Laughing at sad situations can be tricky. I don’t like the practice of making fun of other people’s difficult situations for entertainment purposes. Maybe we can only afford to joke about the situations we’ve experienced. I remember making jokes with other bereaved parents not so long after Thomas died. Our humour was probably shocking to outsiders. But we had earnt the right to cope with our grief in this way. If someone who hadn’t experienced grief had made the same jokes, we would probably have been hurt.
Your comment wasn’t odd. Black humour is complicated!
So glad that you are all ok. I have stepped away from Instagram so will check up on you over here instead, much nicer ?❤️ Lots of love San xx
San,
I have days when I love Instagram and then suddenly, it’s all too much and I need to step away. I usually return to my blog. I’m so glad you think this is a nicer place to stay in touch. Sending lots of love to you as well! xxx
I understand your girls – black humor can help us deal a bit better with frightening situations. It can take away some “scariness” and help even better then Rexona anti stress 🙂 and that`s good. Stay safe!
Luana,
Black humour is even more effective than Rexona deodorant when dealing with difficult situations? I hadn’t thought of that, but you are right! Thank you so much for your concern and your recent emails. xxx
Sue, it’s hard to imagine what this period of time of time has been like for you, your family and so many others. When I watch the coverage of the Australian fires on our Canadian news, it just seems amazing to me to hear that you are all managing to keep in as good spirits as you have. Your video clips with Andy are great! Continue to take care and find the humour/light side where you can. I think we all have times that we need to do that.
Erin,
The fire situation has improved for us, but there are still lots of people being affected by the bushfires. I heard that we might get some proper rain soon. That would be unusual but just what we need!
Andy and I had fun making a few vlogs together. I’m glad you enjoyed them. It can be hard sometimes to keep smiling when things are difficult, but certainly, a sense of humour helps. Also, we now have lots of stories to tell. One day, we’re going to say, “Do you remember Christmas 2019? That was the year of the bushfires…”
Thank you so much for stopping by!