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