Thursday, January 13, 2011
Not sure how to even begin this post. It's one of those days where I struggle to find words that fit the feelings that I am experiencing or any emergency services worker might experience. You can run fifty calls that won't phase you and all of a sudden one type of call might haunt you for days and when you are alone and shut your eyes at night all you can see are the bad images that have been permanently etched into your brain. And this image remains sharp and as fresh as the first time until you find a way to bury it deep in the back of your head, hoping it won't resurface anytime soon. For me, the albatross I carry around my neck are the calls where people have chosen to take their own life. The other night we had such a call. And as tough as I'd like to think I am, this call was hard for me. I found myself carying the burden of the dead, getting too close emotionally trying to piece the puzzle of this person's life together and the circumstances which led to his choice and the way in which he was found was horrific. And it haunts me still. This is the type of call where in the middle of the night, when I have been tossing and turning and thinking too much, I tiptoe into my childrens' room and crawl into bed to sleep next to them. Because the only thing that can console me in those moments is having my children remind me of the most beautiful things in life. And I silently promise them that I will do everything within my power to give them a life full of joy, comfort and security so that they may never feel alone. And pray that no one ever has to feel the kind of pain that young man must have been experiencing the night we found him.