Step By Step

So, if you’ve come by here (or the other place) you’re probably aware that I’m retiring from the FD.  This place has been many things for me, and to me for that matter.  Not the least of which is as fodder for my writing.  I’ve gleaned multiple posts from the adventures, and misadventures of the guys I work with.  Myself included.

But, the end is getting closer, as ends are inclined to do.

To wit; I’ve turned in my paper.

As I told the kids when I sent them a group text- it’s officially official.  September 15th will be the last day I spend in a firehouse.  That feels weird to say btw.  Not bad mind you, just… weird.  I’ve tried really hard to maintain some type of normal identity.  It’s so easy to let this job become all-encompassing and I don’t know that that is entirely healthy.  I love my job, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve never been “that” guy that has to, for example, drive to and from work in uniform.  I don’t ask if there’s a “government employee” discount anymore.  Although if I should happen to get pulled over for speeding I won’t hesitate to offer that info up to the police officer that pulls me over.

If that should happen, that is.  And it hasn’t happened for a really long time fwiw.  I still remember that event too, lol.  Diane and I were driving one of the Quiet Child’s friends home after a sleepover or something, three teenage girls in the back seat chatting away about god knows what.  I saw the cop pull out behind me in my mirror, looked at my speed and saw him flip his lights on.  Hopefully I didn’t use too bad of a word to express my feelings, what with the girls in the back seat.  But I pulled right over and rolled down my window.  When the officer came up to me and asked if I knew how fast I was going (as I recall it was 10 or so over the limit, in town) I told him I did, I apologized, and I asked if it mattered that I was a firefighter.  He asked where, I told him, he rolled his eyes, handed back my license and told me to slow down.

Anyway, the Oldest One asked me if I was excited.  This is apparently a theme, since almost every step along the way someone asks me if I’m excited about what looms ahead.  My answer to her, and it’s become my standard response, is this…

Have you ever known the word “excited” to describe me?

To which the family photojournalist replied “You are the most excited I’ve ever seen you around baked goods and I’m sure there will be plenty”  Just another example of what a smart woman she is.

Now, mind you, I’m not actively soliciting baked goods for my last day.  But if you feel the need, well, who am I to deny you?

But I actually did request something for my last day.  I asked that, instead of having a big reception at our headquarters station, if we could just do an open house type thing at Station 3 I would prefer that.  The FD administration graciously agreed.  The guys I work with have done a great job of looking out for the old guy for the last couple years, and they all supported my idea and I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the amount of amazing food that will be put out for the day.  If you’re in the are on the 15th, stop by and say “Hi”.

There are many, many things I won’t miss about “the job”.  Getting up in the middle of the night for an abuse of the 9-1-1 system, standing at the pump panel in mid January, in three inches of ice and slush at a house fire, wrestling with drunks or psych calls that went south, I could go on and on.

But what I will miss, and what I could not (even if I wanted to) replace is the friendships, the esprit de corps, the feeling of being a part of something bigger than oneself that this job foists upon you.  I owe so much to so many for making me, not only a better firefighter/paramedic, but for making me a better human being.

I typically don’t like to try to list people, out of fear I’ll forget someone but without John, Bill, Mike, Norm, Jeff, Cal, Jim, Vin, Tommy, Kevin, Jerry and all the rest I wouldn’t be near the man I am (or think I am) today.  I’ve worked with some amazing crews and witnessed cohesion you can’t imagine and I’m grateful for that too.

A lot of times there is talk of Brotherhood in this job and I have no better example of that bond than this.  When Diane died, while meeting with the funeral director to make her arrangements we got to the part about who her pallbearers would be.  The director suggested that perhaps we could use her nephews and fill in with her brothers.  I didn’t want that, I felt their time should be spent mourning.  I called Vin.  We were partners at the time, and he had told me a day or two earlier that the guys from Local 3234 wanted to do something to help.  So I asked him to get some pallbearers.  And I promptly forgot about it because I knew the guys I worked with would take care of me.  So now, as I look back on the brothers I served with, I want to thank John, Joe, Phil, Jim, Tom and Vin for what you guys did for my family that day.  I know I thanked you all back then, but I don’t believe it’s humanly possible to thank you enough.  

I love you guys.

From the bottom of my heart.

Peace