For Krissi and Shawn

This one is going to be brief, but I want to do a couple things here.  This post isn't going to be me-centric like most of them are.  But after my last post, I felt like I should address the follow-up and share a couple things.

First off, there's this.  As you may know, the fire service is heavy on tradition.  And we've been processing the loss of our own for a really long time, so we've become pretty good at it.  What you just heard was the "final tone-out" for Shawn Carroll.  A farewell from his brothers and sisters in the fire family.  I'm not sure how well the dispatcher knew Shawn, but you can hear the emotion in her voice, a couple times.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to get through broadcasting that.

Finally I'm going to share something here that, well, I've shared with a lot of people over the last eleven years or so.  Brief backstory- after Diane died I was chatting with a cousin and she asked me if I'd ever gone to a website run by a guy named Tom Zuba.  I'd never heard of him so she gave me the Reader's Digest condensed version of his story; lost his wife and two young children spread out over far too few years so he started speaking about grief, mourning, and healing.  At Tom's site there was a guestbook filled with posts from people dealing with the loss of a loved one.  I "met" some amazing people there and they helped me get through a very dark time.  I learned so much there.  Among the lessons, one from Paul in Georgia, grieving the loss of his daughter was this - 

"When I help you heal, I heal."

I found this to be so true.  I try not to be intrusive when I meet someone in the throes of grief, but I try and get my bona fides out to them to let them know they're not alone and that so many people are sending strength, love, and support to help them try and get along with their new normal.  There's a lot to navigate along the way and it can be so helpful to have someone you can talk to, vent to, cry with, etc. with no fear of judgement.  if I can do that for someone, I'll gladly jump in.

I also got this poem from someone there, I don't remember who.  I was going to give credit to the author, but it seems like every time I try and confirm the author, I find a different person credited for it so, rest assured I did not write this (I wish I had, it's beautiful) but since I'm not sure who did, I'll leave that blank.  The images this piece produces for me have always been a comfort, that's why I share it.  I passed it along to Krissi through a mutual friend, the guy I met those two through, so she has it, but I thought it was well past time for me to put it up here so anyone that feels the need can use it in time of need.  

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying…

Peace

Saying goodbye

I'm not sure how long this one is going to be.

I just took a cruise through social media and I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.  A family I know is going through one of the hardest things imaginable.

Saying goodbye.

I met Shawn and Krissi four or five years ago while I was on tour with Pink Heals.  As it turned out, I didn't have to go far to meet them either, They're in the far southwest suburbs.  But, since I was on the Illinois portion of the tour that year, our paths crossed.

I'm so grateful they did.

If I remember correctly, at the time, Shawn was just finishing up kicking cancer's ass.  They showed us their appreciation for what we try to do on tour by showering us with snacks, bottled water, all sorts of food and some other small items that I, for one, certainly wouldn't have thought about but ended up using the heck out of.  Just simply two of the nicest, sweetest people on the planet.

I haven't seen them but a couple times since then in all honesty.  But every time I saw them, I was welcomed like a long lost relative.  One you like.  That's the kind of people they are.  So, when I heard a while back, that Shawn was going in for testing and ultimately, chemo, I never doubted he would kick cancer's ass once again.  This is one tough dude.  I followed his progress from a distance, trying to keep him in my thoughts, but knowing he'd be fine.

Then, the other day, I saw a post from Krissi about palliative care.  I figured I was mistaken.  It had to be about someone else.  I teetered back and forth whether to reach out to a mutual friend and see if I read that correctly or not.

Sadly, I read it right.

Krissi has asked for thoughts and prayers to let Shawn know it's ok to let his body rest.  He has fought like hell.  His spirit is so strong.  But "his body just couldn't take any more."

My heart is breaking for her.

A couple years ago I wrote "An Open Letter To A Grieving Friend" when a dear friend lost her husband suddenly.  Much of what I wrote then is still applicable.  And, now as it was then, much of what I learned was picked up first hand.  And, though I may never have said it here, I've said it often IRL, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.  I certainly don't wish it on any of my friends.

While, in this case, I can imagine what Krissi is going through, I can't really relate.  My experience with the loss of a spouse took place over the course of six days.  And in Caitlin's case, it was three days.  Shawn has been fighting a lot longer than that.  I don't know, but I think it's a safe assumption that in this case it's stretched out a little further.  I always told myself that, if what happened to Diane had to happen, I was grateful it was so short.  Frankly, I don't know how I would've dealt with it had it been a longer term kind of thing.

Sure, with my parents, the decline in their health was long-term and noticeable, but it's not the same.  Shawn, like Diane, was in the prime of life when this started.

I guess maybe I want to wrap this up by saying, whether you know the family I'm writing about or not; if you pray, please do so for them.  If you don't pray, please offer up a kind word, or send strength and love in whatever way you believe.

Finally there's this.  If someone you know, someone you care about, loses a dear one, do something nice for them.  Cut the grass, walk the dog, fix a meal, call them just to say "hi".  Don't be afraid of reminding them they lost someone, they know what they lost.  Let them know you remember the person.  And let them know how important they, and the one they lost, are to you.

Shawn, I love you man.  You always made me smile.

Krissi, I'm so sorry for your loss.  Please know I'll keep you and the girls in my thoughts.  For a really long time.  You're such a special family and I'm truly so much better for having known you all.

Peace

Opposition Research

Am I the only one that finds it odd when someone uses a pen and paper to document something?  I mean; to-do lists, calendar appointments, etc. are all things that can be done electronically with relative ease.  Heck I do these things and I'm barely tech literate.  I feel like I know enough to do a lot of things on my phone/laptop/computer but I also know there's a ton of stuff I could do, but don't know how.  I've pretty much gotten to the point where I don't usually notice someone on their personal electronic device but if someone takes out pen and paper?  I'm drawn right to it.  It just seems weird now.

But that's not why you're here...

I went downtown to a concert last night, Drive By Truckers (if you haven't checked them out, shame on you) at Millennium Park along with my friend Tom and his son Alex.  Quick side note, Alex is the drummer for a band; NE-HI and you need to check them out, especially if you like good, loud, fast, rock and roll.  Any way, this was my second time seeing DBT this year but last night was part of Chicago's regularly scheduled free concert series so, yeah, kind of a no-brainer for this one.  Although parking was, while incredibly convenient, not so much in the "free" part of the evening.

I don't want to, nor am I necessarily qualified to, offer up a critique of the band but I'll say they write a lot about life in the South; both good and bad, and they're great storytellers.  Many of their songs have a distinct political opinion and that's one of the things that has endeared them to me.

Mostly because their opinion meshes pretty well with mine.

But, not everyone's.

Especially these days.

Which brings me, more or less, to my point.

As I often do, after the show, I posted some random pictures to various social media that I use.  It's what we do now, right?  We share these snippets of our lives with those we interact with, some good, long-time friends, some casual acquaintances, and some people we don't even know but may be friends of friends.  It feels like there's a word for that btw but I could be wrong.  No, not strangers...

So, among the pictures I posted was this one -

I don't recall the song, but "Sweet Baby" Jay was just crushing it.  So I snapped this shot.  As I was driving home last night, I realized I was starving and since I didn't go to the grocery store yesterday, I figured I'd just grab a bite to eat from a late-night diner on the way home.  I also took that opportunity to post my photos from the night on Facebook and Twitter.  In the ten minutes it took me to drive home after eating, I saw I had a couple "likes" and one "angry".

When I got up this morning, I checked to see who took note of what I posted and saw the "angry" poster had also added the comment "All Lives Matter".

Now, this gets tricky for me.  While I post what I want to post here, I do take pains to avoid blatantly controversial positions.  I have so few regular readers, I try to avoid alienating them.  For the most part.  And, since I know "angry" and like him, consider him a friend, I'm not writing this to call anyone out.

Quite the opposite.

I considered how I was going to respond for quite a little while this morning.  Because, as I said, I like "angry" and I didn't want to call him out.  I recognize we don't agree on several things.  But that's ok.  He's entitled to his opinion, just like I'm entitled to mine.  And I'm fairly sure a post on social media isn't going to change his opinion just like I know it isn't going to change mine.

I mean, really.  Have you ever looked at something 180 degrees from your beliefs and said to yourself

"Huh.  All this time I was wrong.  Breathing really is bad for me."

Exactly.  So I chose not to address the comment.  Still, I was prepared to step in if some of my more liberal friends chose to challenge the statement.  The situation resolved itself however, when "angry" deleted his post after an hour or so.

Here's the thing, I don't like trolls.  You may, but I don't. Some may enjoy taking them on, I don't. Some may enjoy being a troll from time-to-time but that's something entirely different.  When I post something of a political nature, I post what I believe.  I try hard not to post unverified stuff, but sometimes I get careless and let one slip by.  And I try, really hard not to inject my opinions into the posts of others.  More conservative others.  Again, occasionally I slip up.  And sometimes I've done as "angry" did.  Including self-deleting my comment.  I sometimes get surprised at the beliefs others have.  But I try, really hard, to understand how they may have gotten to that belief.  If some random troll pops up on one of my posts it's one thing.  But if a friend tosses out a comment I may not agree with, I try and give them the credit they've built up with me over the course of our friendship.

If a friend wants to block or unfollow me, it happens.  I've stopped following some friends because I'd rather hold to an opinion I've formed of them built over time rather than a random post or two that make me scratch my head.

I've actually been thinking about dropping Facebook again.  For whatever reason it just seems more trollable.  The only thing that keeps me on it is the fact that it draws more readers to my humble little blog than any other platform.  By far.  Like, it's not even close.  I almost feel like I'm selling my soul by doing that.

I saw a post recently that made a lot of sense to me, and I was able to relate it to something that also felt rational.  So, I think I'm going to end this way.

I can like the police and not like police brutality.  These things are not mutually exclusive.  Just like, as a firefighter, I have no use for a firefighter that is an arsonist.

I think these last two opinions make sense.  Maybe everyone doesn't, but maybe more people should.

Peace

48's

Ok.

Ima tell you right up front, this one is kind of hitting to all fields.  I guess that happens when you go a month(!) between posts...

I just settled in to my local happy place (with a lovely vanilla latte) after getting home from a 48.  For the uninitiated, a 48 is what we around the firehouse call it when we work two shifts back-to-back.  Our annual union golf outing (where we raise money for these folks) was yesterday, and, since I learned a long time ago my temperament is not conducive to happiness on the golf course (it does, however, dovetail nicely into creative use of bad words) I wasn't planning on going.  My Lieutenant was going to get "forced back" to work yesterday.  That means exactly what you think it means.  Since I wasn't golfing, he asked if I could take the force back for him.  Bob, in addition to being a good (shameless pandering since I know he reads this stuff) dude is also VP of our local so it was, to me, kind of a big deal that he be there.  Btw Bob, I heard you won some swag yesterday... just sayin... any way, I worked a 48 in the high-rise district.  It was basically uneventful, busyish both days but not crazy.  Apparently someone turned the gravity up in beautiful DG since several of our calls the last two days involved picking up someone unable to do so on their own.  Typically the people most affected by this uptick in the Earth's gravitational pull are, shall we say, full figured.  Additionally, it's rare that these folks are injured, other than maybe bruised pride.

That doesn't always go both ways either.  The last two people we helped to regain verticality were both in excess of 350 pounds.  It's also, btw, rare that these folks are left in a position that lends itself to proper lift technique.  You know, lift with your legs and not your back?  Yeah, that's often just not possible in the real world.  So there are two main goals here-

A.) don't cause further harm to the patient.
B.) don't cause harm to any of our crew.

But when said patient is wedged alongside her car with the door hanging open it's not easy to get enough people in there to make a lift while spreading the work to enough of our people so that no one had to move awkwardly.

This is also one of the reasons I'm as active politically as I am.  The laws of unintended consequences are fully involved in things like, oh... say... Tier II pensions.  These came about due to some "sky is falling" types that said public safety pensions wrecked, and would ultimately destroy, America as we know it.  And quite possibly the entire planet if not the entire solar system.  Tier II came about as compromise legislation by all involved stakeholders and, among other things, it raises the minimum retirement age from 50 to 55 along with raising minimum service time from 20 years to 25 years.

At face value these moves are no big deal, right?

Life rarely operates on face value only.

When people ask me why I'm retiring, I often tell them I know it's time because "everything aches, nothing hurts" and while I say it to bring a chuckle, it's also pretty accurate.  Twenty eight years of picking up people that fought the law (of physics) and the law won has taken a toll on my body.  Without going into details I'll just say that the longer I stay, the more likely I'm going to get hurt or cause injury to one of the guys I work with.

Neither is an acceptable outcome.

Ever.

What I'm getting at here is this; the guys that are now Tier II employees are going to, I believe, have a much higher incidence of on-the-job injuries than my generation has had.  I mean, through no fault of their own, it's just the aging process of the human body.  There's no way a 55 year-old can do the things as well as she or he could do at 40, 45, or 50.  The differences may be negligible, but when compounded over time, they show up.  In the form of more workers comp claims.  Something our very own governor (small "g"intended) Nero is trying to address by making it harder for employees to qualify for, file for, and claim, workers comp injury.  And that's assuming no one comes on the job above age 30.

That's messed up, imho.

Last thing; if you start today at 35 years of age, the maximum here in Illinois, you'll be 60 years old when you're eligible to retire.  I do know a couple guys that worked or are working into their 60's and believe me, they are the exception and not the rule.  That's not throwing shade at anyone either, merely my opinion.

So, back to my 48.

One of the perks to this recent 48, which is very likely my last one because did you even read what I just wrote, is the Lt. I worked with yesterday is a wonderful baker and he made for me (us) a blueberry cobbler from scratch.  Can I just say that my belly was very happy?  Despite a mild admonition at my annual physical to cut down on sweets, I had a chunk for breakfast too because, again, did you read what I just wrote?

BLUEBERRY.

COBBLER.

Yes, please.

I kind of wanted to say a little more here, but when I got home this morning the pooch was off her game a little, I think due to my absence, so I'm gonna head back and hang out with her a little longer. Besides, I think I hear an ice pack calling out for my back...

Peace