Why I'm not coping

I'm having a whole lot of trouble dealing with this aftermath of the fires and extreme heat... and I just couldn't figure out why.

And then it hit me first thing this morning.

We went through a horrible wildfire in California back in 1992 - The Old Gulch Fire - and just prior to that point, my daughter had just moved into her own little apartment. But for days, no one could reach her on the phone, lines were down and roads were cut off. I was frantic with worry and I just didn't know where to turn.

We could see the flames cresting the top of the ridge just opposite our property and we watched the pine trees going up like roman candles. I was home alone with my boys because my husband was out working overtime, doing traffic control. After running to the store - which was in the opposite direction from the fire - I spent 30 frantic minutes being blocked from getting home to my boys... until the police officer finally relented when I told him my husband was a California Highway Patrol officer working the top of Hwy 4. Of course, in a small town like that, everyone knew who he was, but that particular officer had been brought in from out of the area, because the police and firefighters were being overwhelmed with the magnitude of what was going on.
Everyone's nerves were shot and we were all just dealing with the threat the best way we could.

I was worried beyond belief for my daughter, and I was as frantic as only a parent - a Mama - can be, but everyone assured me that she was probably just fine, since she lived in town... and the fire was nowhere near where she was living. It would have to come through us, to get to where she was ..and we weren't in any immediate danger at that point.

They finally - after what seemed like a lifetime - managed to get the fires somewhat under control and the electricity and phones had just come back on... so getting in touch with Jenny was my first priority. I just needed to hear her voice and know that she was okay, you know?

I tried calling her at work and her boss said that she hadn't been at work in 2 days and she was now fired for not letting them know that she wouldn't be in.
Of course, I was worried because Jen was a responsible young lady and not going to work, or letting anyone know, was totally out of character for her. So I made further phone calls to her friends and even friends of friends... and eventually I ended up calling her Karate instructor.

I first spoke to his wife, who was evasive as hell and who said " I don't want to seem rude, but I really don't want to talk to you - but I'll get Joel for you". By this point I was absolutely fed up and I handed the phone to my husband and said "you talk to him, because if I do, I'm going to blow my stack." He got on the phone and immediately turned as white as a sheet. Instead of turning and telling me what was going on, he simply wrote something on his notepad and handed the sheet of paper to me.
"Jenny is dead".
And with that, a part of me died.

Joel (the karate instructor) had gone to pick Jenny up for karate class, and had found her door locked, but her window was open and uncovered and when he looked in, he discovered her passed away, lying on her bed. He rang the police who then responded, but some some strange, inexplicable reason, Joel had been told to not tell anyone - including myself and her step-father.

This had all happened at approximately 10 in the morning, yet we were never informed or contacted by the police. It wasn't until I rang Joel at dinner time that I found out what had happened.
I suppose they were treating it all as a crime scene and at the time, they didn't know who the suspects were, but still... the thought that a family friend (the police sargent) could or would make the decision not to tell us, still makes my heart reel.

We eventually found out that Jenny had died in her sleep, due to Orthostatic Intolerance. (the same disease the Greg, the Yellow Wiggle has) But back then, little was known about it. She had had the symptoms, but finding a doctor who could put the clues together was just impossible. We had made the round of doctors and specialists, but no one ever told us, or even hinted to us, that it could be life-threatening. All it took was her coming down with a minor cold... and her poor overworked heart just stopped on her.

I lost my daughter Jenny... blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, during the Old Gulch fire and I guess the two will always be tied together in my mind and heart.
She was only 17 years old... and this year, it will be 17 years since she went "home" to be with God.
On August 31st, my Jenny will been gone for as many years as I actually had her in my life... and it just seems impossible. I still to this day, can not believe that she's gone.

These fires that we're dealing with here in Victoria, well... I guess that they're bringing back memories and feelings that I thought I had dealt with a long time ago... but obviously, I haven't dealt with them at all.
With every news report, I keep expecting the phone to ring and have someone on the other end tell me something devastating and heartbreaking.

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

~~~~~~~~~~
Postscript...
Regarding the devastation still going on here and how it ties in to my thoughts and feelings and memories... this was the headline that I woke up to this morning :

Thousands continue search for loved ones
"Thousands of people continue to call the Red Cross hoping to be reunited with loved ones missing in the bushfire crisis.
To date 14,000 people have called the Red Cross in a desperate search for loved ones, with 4,000 seeking information about missing family members on Wednesday alone."

Is it any wonder why my heart is breaking?