Normal Lost

I worked at Papa Joe's Italian Restaurant in Brooksville, Fl for the past 11 years.  January 23rd was a typical day, kids to school, housework and playing with my two year old, then off to work at the restaurant.  I closed the restaurant and headed home to catch some rest, it was going to be a very busy weekend at work.  It was early the next morning that I awoke to my dad's voice calling from my front door.  He hugged me and told me that Papa Joe's had caught fire and burned to the ground overnight.  Still half asleep, I grabbed my phone and saw several missed calls and text messages.  I reluctantly dialed my manager, Jeannie who answered sorrowfully crying "Loretta!  Its gone, It's really bad".  It was a frigid morning, the coldest of the year.  My husband called to let the office know he wouldn't make it in, I grabbed my jacket and threw on my boots and followed my heart to Papa Joe's.  Heart pounding, gripping the steering wheel, I felt as though I was in an alternate reality, like a dream.  As I turned the corner and caught the first glimpse of the smoldering building, tears welled up from deep within me and I sobbed out loud.  It was in this moment that I lived the cliche of "you don't know what you've got until its gone".  Gone it was, surrounded by news reporters and firefighters and cars lined down the side of the road I braced myself for the scene I was about to witness.  As I stepped out of my car, my co-workers and the Girratana family were huddled, freezing, silently gazing upon the burnt rubble that housed 33 years of memories.  In the days that followed, normal was no where to be found, displacement had taken its place.