It was weird looking at my childhood home all charred. The home was built in the twenties. It was once gorgeous and showed tell-tale signs of what a beauty it used to be...double french doors with original glass door knobs. Heavy wood trim throughout, built-in book cases, shelves, and window seats. If it had been maintained, it would have been a real treasure, but truth be told, it had run down. Even so, it was all he had left in the world. I worry for him. I don't know how to fix this. I pray a lot. I used to also pray every night to win the lottery so that I could fix his place for him. Really, I pray that I can buy a nice place for my mom, my in-laws, and my dad, but don't we all? It will feel strange to not pray that prayer anymore.
Maybe you could add him in your prayers, too. Since I don't even know where to begin, I'm just asking God to do his thing. I trust in that.