The Loss of Matilda

This is the story of the Loss of Matilda. Our lovely 1973 Superior Motor Home. Our favorite place on the beach. Our home in a foreign land. Our hope for a future.

On Thursday morning, January 16th, we received a phone call from our friends in Baja, that our home there had caught fire and had burned to the ground. My first reaction was a sob that broke free from my heart and escaped my lips. If anyone had heard it, besides my family, they may have thought that one of my children had died. I feel part of my soul flee, never to return.

It was (and still is) pretty shocking news, to say the least. Our home was broken into by someone, and was burned down by his carelessness as he left a cigarette burning inside (or at least that's the suspicion). The incident is still under investigation, and we wait in limbo, unable to return to Baja until March, unable to sift through her remains, unable to heal the hurt that is festering in our hearts. My family is heartbroken, all of our possessions were inside, and what is more, our family's future in our sleepy little Baja town is now unsure and tainted.

There is good news, no one was hurt in putting the fire out, and the man responsible was apprehended and was in custody, immediately following the fire. He has since posted bail, though the investigation is ongoing. We are working with our friends there and doing everything we can to ensure that this man cannot do this to anyone else. We have a long road of rebuilding our hearts, as well as rebuilding our lives in our lovely village.
It pains me that this has marred our town, and that my strong sense of security anywhere in this world has been tainted and destroyed. I'm worried for my children, as they aren't as eloquent in expressing their feelings. Erin has been in a funk for weeks, and Tristan is pretending it didn't happen, I think. I shudder at the thought of how we will react when we see the remains of our Baja life in the summer. I ache at the vision of the ashes, the shell of our home, and us, standing there in the sand, helpless, with freshly opened wounds.

it's just stuff, they say. it's just stuff.
it's just things, they say. just things.
but when the stuff is present in every single memory of that place, that time, it becomes more than stuff, more than things. it's part of an intricately woven dream, a tight web of hope and love and peace and happiness....and now it's gone.
she may not have been a person, but she had a soul, a blessed soul that we were fortunate enough to see, to feel, to breathe in. she wrapped her walls around us, and kept us safe and warm. she was our womb on the beach, our mothership in a foreign land. she was our home, our heaven on earth, our happy place.
you may be ashes and rubble to some, stuff and things to others, but to us, you were and will always be our friend, our sister.

Now, more than ever, I'm asking everyone out there to help support our "rise from the ashes" by shopping my businesses, as every penny that I make will be going towards the goal of starting over. I have also set up a gofund page, if anyone is able to donate to that. Every little bit helps!!
https://michellevangurp.scentsy.us
https://mightytasty.velata.us
www.perfectlyposh.us/MIGHTY
www.youravon.com/MIGHTY
http://mixems.com/store/affiliate.asp?aff=1471
http://www.gofundme.com/6c8m50

Thank you to everyone that has reached out to us, and for those with unspoken prayers...we appreciate you all. It's going to be difficult to start all over, but we will.
Here is our lovely Matilda, gone but never forgotten. Many happy memories within her protective walls.