Clarity...

Sometimes life takes over. June 2014- Now 2015 has been insane. I'll spare you the boring details and hospitalizations. We are clearly not done, but I am still here. And in the grand scheme of things that is all that matters. Another school year is upon us, another 9/11 memorial has been celebrated as we vow to #NeverForget and my 40th has come and gone. And I am still standing.

This is my first post of 2015, and we are already well on our wait to finding 2016.

This past weekend I traveled to Colorado Springs, to the IAFF Fallen Firefighter Memorial. It was decommissioned earlier this year and recommissioned on Saturday. It is breath taking. Captain August Gutzmann, MFD, was added to the memorial and his granddaughter asked if I would join her out there. It took some juggling of schedules and my amazing FF holding down the ship so that I could head out there for the weekend, but I am so grateful that I did.  

It was hard to prepare for the ceremony and NOT put myself in the shoes of the family. It was a concerted effort to clear it from my mind as I got dressed. It literally took me telling myself to knock it off and just get moving. But, as I met the families and as I spoke with those left behind, it crept back into my brain. These families all knew it could happen to their FF. But survival tells you to place that in the not now bucket of your brain. No matter if the loss was 2015 or 1985, the loss was real. The pain came back. The wives, the children, the parents, the grandchildren all remembered that pain and grief as though it was yesterday. The ceremony honors the fallen, but reminds the living that they are not alone. And, more importantly, we have not forgotten.

I was very proud to be part of the Milwaukee Fire family. The Honor Guard and Pipes and Drums were AMAZING. I ran to our bass drummer to share in the excitement after the parade Friday night because the excitement was just electrifying. I was so proud of all the practice time that our pipers put in for the breathtaking parade Friday and Saturday nights and the absolutely chilling performance that was part of the ceremony Saturday at the memorial. It was an experience that I will not forget.


Since I am aware that images are far more powerful than anything I could ever type, I will leave you with these. 

Be safe and come home to us.

Some Gave All

My flower pictures and stories about the muppets can wait.  It is Memorial Day weekend.  A time where we need to REMEMBER those who have sacrificed for us.  Sacrificed time with their families, their marriages, the health and their lives - so we can meet through a blog like this. Please take a moment to say thank you to a Vet and send thoughts and prayers for those who never came home - or never came home the same.

A heartfelt thank you to...

those who served...

those who never came home...

those left behind...

and those who protect us everyday...

You are not forgotten...

Is There Anything Else to Say?

It has been 11 years since life as we knew was turned upside down and inside out.  

11 years.

Sometimes it is hard to believe.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to think of what to write.  The posts for this day seem to get to me in a manner I never expected.  

I can't say I understand.  I don't understand why.  I don't understand what the families were put through and what those quiet moments mu st be like today.  As fearful as we all were, I still can't understand.  I can't understand the sheer horror experienced by the spouses of those bravely trying to save those they could and to comfort those they could not.  The momentary glimpse I got with the Temple shooting is nothing in comparison.  I can feel the apprehension in my chest every shift day as I kiss my husband good-bye, for that one more once.  I "know" he'll come back to me, but there is always that chance that he might not.  And that whispers in my ear periodically.  But he does come home to me.  

All of my children will know their father.  How many 9/11 babies only know the stories?  How many will never know the whole story?  What do I say to my kids?

Do I say I am sorry to those whose lives will never be the same because of that one moment in time?  Sorry that you will not have your Daddy to walk you down the aisle.  Sorry that "Always Kiss Me Goodnight" will never be again.  Sorry that your child was taken from you far too early.  

I can say "Thank You", but to whom?  To the families that have fought through the heartache and pain?  To the 343 who were simply amazing.  FFs are often the ones running in while everyone else is running out.  But this time, many of them knew this would be their last call.  And they went in valiantly to help, to comfort to be firefighters.  To the NYPD who tried to keep some idea of sanity at probably the most insane moment of our brief history, even though they too knew the costs?  To the nameless victims calling home to comfort the people they, at that moment, knew would be grieving the lives lost far too soon??  To our military forces and their families who have fought bravely to ensure we are safe in our own backyards?  To Paul Gill of Engine 54 whose name graced my husband's gear at last year's memorial?  To his family who have been so gracious in their correspondence with me?  Who do you thank?  Does it mean anything??  Does it help??

FF Paul Gill, Engine 54

There are no words.  We all know where we were.  We all know how we felt when the pit in our stomach dropped.  We know and have shared our stories over and over and over.  Our stories have been heard, but what about the stories of those we have lost?  Some of theirs have made their way to documentaries and memoirs, but some are forever silenced.

The only words I have are

www.facebook.com/MYPAWS1


WE REMEMBER...

YOU HAVE NOT BEEN FORGOTTEN...

WE REMEMBER...

I Remember...