Home.
It’s the place we come from. The place we live. The place we’re instinctively drawn to in times of crisis, tragedy and uncertainty.
Home is the place we all want to be. The place we all need to be.
For Karin Rivest and her two children, Hunter, 7, and Rachel, 9, home is a 10-acre plot of land at 5630 Haven Road in Addison Township.
‘It really is one of the most beautiful pieces of property in Oakland County,? Karin said with pride.
The Rivests celebrated a bittersweet homecoming Jan. 5 as they along with 50 or so family members, friends and neighbors gathered at the family’s new home on that property to remember the past and face the future.
Exactly one year ago on a bitterly cold and icy winter night, a propane-related explosion and house fire claimed the lives of Mike Rivest, 43, and his 20-month-old son Gage.
Karin lost a husband and infant son. Hunter and Rachel lost a father and baby brother. A family lost its home.
All that was left was a small box of miscellaneous items salvaged from the ashes and debris.
‘How in the world could life go on when something so horrific had happened,? Karin recalled thinking the next day. ‘I’d lost my home, my husband, my baby, my son (Hunter) had lived through the explosion . . . You can’t comprehend how life can keep going. How can Meijer’s parking lot be full today? How can people be driving? I don’t understand. How could anything like this happen and life still continue to go on??
In many ways, Karin said the loss of her baby boy was even harder to bear than her husband’s death because Mike ‘lived life so fully? and ‘completely everyday.?
‘He grabbed the bull by the horns and rode it and beat it many, many times,? she said of her late husband, who was an avid and enthusiastic outdoorsman and sportsman. ‘That’s why it was so unbelievable to his friends that Mike Rivest of all people could have been beaten by a house fire.?
In contrast, her baby’s life was just beginning. ‘The pain and ache in a mother’s heart over the loss of a child is unbearable,? she said. ‘A mother’s ache can never be explained.?
But out of the profound darkness and pain of that devastating nightmare came light and love.
Immediately following the fire, people from all over Addison, Oxford, Lapeer and Rochester rallied to the Rivests? side donating money, food and clothing. Numerous offers of shelter were made and even more prayers were said on the Rivests? behalf.
‘It blew me away the amount of support we had,? Karin said. ‘To me at our local level, it rivaled 9/11 in terms of the camaraderie and the compassion that people showed us.?
‘The communities? contributions probably sustained us for almost half-a-year in terms of living expenses, of rebuilding our life,? she said. ‘The outpouring of love and compassion was phenomenal.?
‘I can’t say enough in terms of the appreciation that I have and my children have for what people have done for us,? Karin added.
She was particularly grateful for the constant prayers her family received, many of which came from her church, the Living Word Lutheran Church in Rochester. ‘Without that I guarantee you I’d be horizontal, not vertical, laying in a hospital somewhere with I.V.s in me.?
For the first month-and-a-half following the fire, the Rivests lived with Tom and Michelle Hillman in Lapeer. ‘We couldn’t have done it without them,? Karen said.
After that, from late February on, the family lived in a rural bed-and-breakfast known as ‘The Stone House,? part of the Huntsman Hunt Club in Dryden owned by Jim and Mary Beth Tebben. The Tebbens closed down the B-and-B for the Rivests.
‘My gratitude towards them (the Tebbens) is unending,? Karin said.
Being ‘country people,? Karin said the Stone House allowed them ‘to move on and heal? in a way living in an apartment could not have.
‘My kids are used to running and playing on 10 acres,? she said. ?(The Stone House) has brought us to this point where we can go home.?
Rebuilding her children’s lives and helping them heal has been the central focus of the last year for Karin.
‘My children have been robbed of every ounce of (their innocence),? she said.
In response, Karin said her ‘mission is to send them on in life with as little extra baggage as possible,? which is why things like a birthday party for baby Gage are still celebrated and last week’s memorial service was held.
‘We’ve addressed everything that can be addressed, so that nothing’s buried,? she said. ‘I want to do everything I can to give my kids the life they deserve.?
And it seems to be working.
‘My kids are phenomenal,? Karin said. ‘My kids with what they’ve seen, they’ve experienced and lived through have every right to be perfect brats. But they’re kind, they’re loving and respectful to adults and their peers.?
‘The biggest joy for me was, especially right after the fire, when I finally first heard them have a real good belly laugh. Just laugh because they were happy,? she said. ‘To watch them have fun again brought so much joy to my heart.?
Despite how well Rachel and Hunter are doing, Karin said, ‘They still miss their dad horribly.?
She described her late husband as a hyperactive, very involved father. ‘He was not a sit on the couch kind of dad,? Karin said. ‘His coming home in the evening was an event.?
‘You could hear that F-350 diesel (truck) coming a mile away. The kids would stand on the kitchen table when he came home, staring out the window.?
‘The hardest part is the quietness, the emptiness of the evenings now,? Karin said. ‘The activity’s not there. Daddy’s not coming home.?
To help ease their pain and return them to some sense of normalcy, Karin is happy she’s returning her children to the only place in the world they ever called home before the fire. But the road home was a difficult personal journey for Karin.
After the fire, Karin said she assumed they would build a new home on another piece of property the family owned just down the road from their former home. ‘Mike used it for hunting and some of his landscaping work,? she said.
‘I could never go back to that property, to the hell that happened that night,? she explained. ‘I thought no way could I put my son (Hunter) through that hell again, what he saw and had to experience by being there.?
‘I didn’t think I could possibly go back to that site and live there again, but I could never bear knowing somebody else was living there,? Karin added.
On her third visit back to the property on a ‘balmy? and ‘peaceful? March day last year, Karen heard both the voice of the past and the Divine.
‘I stood at the foundation of where my bedroom was ? my baby’s blanket on the ground mashed into the dirt and ashes, looking at all the debris left in the basement ? and I just sobbed,? she said. ‘There was nothing left. And then I stopped. And this is where I tell people I felt like a cross between Scarlett O’Hara and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.?
‘I closed my eyes and I heard my property. I heard (Mike’s) F-350 (truck) roaring up the driveway. I heard my kids laughing and playing in the swimming pool. I heard the Halloween parties where I had 70 kids out there trick-or-treating. I heard everything. And then a huge peace came over me and I knew it was the Lord saying come home.?
‘I shook it off because I couldn’t even get my kids back there yet. I had no idea how to get my kids back to this site that I vowed I’d never be back on. And now this spirit is telling me to go home ? you’re home, this is home.?
Despite what she was feeling and hearing, Karin knew the decision to go home rested with her kids. ‘They need to be comfortable with this. This needs to be their decision, not mine.?
After praying and talking about it with family and friends, Karin took her kids back to the property later in March.
‘They went and played. They skated on the ice in their boots. They ran around. They were home,? she said. ‘I looked at them both and said, ‘Would you guys like to move back here???
‘They said, ‘Can we?? I said, ‘Yeah, we can move home.? And they went back to playing.?
‘That’s why we’re going home because that’s where we belong,? Karin said.
Although the new house is about a month-and-a-half away from completion, Karin decided to have it blessed by her pastor during the memorial service last week.
‘Tonight means we’re going home and we’re not going to be beaten,? she said just a few hours before the service. ‘Tonight is for healing ? healing for everyone.?
After spending the last year re-building her and her children’s life while building a new home, Karin said once the latter is complete ‘then I’ll grieve.?
‘I’ll be able to sit in that house and look out those windows where everything is the same and nothing is the same.?
In the hopes of helping others, Karin plans to write a book recounting her story of survival while providing testimony to the mercies and grace of God, whom she said, ‘Has never left me.?
This tragedy has taught Karin much.
‘I’ve learned I can handle anything. I’m not afraid of death. I’m not afraid of anything anymore,? she said. ‘I’ve learned through people’s compassion more compassion.?
‘It was hard for me (to accept donations) because I’m usually the giver. It was a lesson for me in terms of learning to receive.?
But the ‘most important thing? Karin said she learned is how highly personalized and individualized a person’s pain is.
‘So many of us through experiences, through life, seem to assume because say I’ve lost a parent and you’ve lost a parent, I know something of your pain, but I know nothing,? she said. ‘The more I know of my pain, my grief, my sorrow and my loss, I realize I know nothing of yours.?
‘Pain and grief are so specific to who you are, how you were brought up and what life has and hasn’t given you,? she said. ‘It is so entwined to every fiber of your being that I know nothing of your pain other than I can grieve with you.?