The day our house flooded while I was 4000 miles away

"There's a burst pipe and the house is flooded," was the call I received at 9pm on a Tuesday evening. And flooded was a perfect description. Waterfalls cascading through the ceilings, water inches deep in the basement, all the while I was sat 4,000 miles away on a different continent, celebrating my daughter's first birthday.

The following three hours were a test of endurance. Not physical, but emotional. I had to sit with the idea that the house was on the way to ruin, and that there is nothing you can physically do to help.

I had complete information and no capability whatsoever. I could watch it happen, in detail, in real time, and do nothing.

Two things came out of it.

The first was how quickly you establish what actually matters. Material things, up to and including the building that keeps you warm, safe and sheltered, suddenly become secondary when the people you love are in the room with you.

The second was what other people will do for you when you really need it. People who gave their time, their energy and their own evening in order to stand in my house and deal with something that was mine to deal with.