Hug Tightly

It seems like my FF and I are ships passing in the night. Life is SO insane that we just don't see each other. Last night, I took the night off of duties - of any kind - and made the nearly two hour ride up with him to the wake of a childhood friend from his hometown. It was just time to talk - with no muppets interrupting. N was at a JV game that they asked him to play in (Perks of being a Varisty underclassmen), girls were at judo with grandpa and I think B was just enjoying the peace and quiet of his gaming world. 

This friend had been battling cancer for nearly seven years. His family seemed almost relieved. Watching him walk in (in uniform) to a room full of firefighters from his hometown/area was interesting. Watching Dan's father tear up at the mere sight of my FF - all grown up. Listening to the stories of his childhood, I got a laugh imitating one of the old admin from the high school (I student taught there), and realizing that this is a world I will never know.  I watched some of the VFDs look at my husband in big city department uniform - trying to figure out why he was there. (He's been gone since 1997.) There was a bit of bravado. But, I was proud that my FF was just there to say goodbye. He was in uniform to say, "See you later, my friend, my brother." Nothing more, nothing less. It was a moment of bonding and not bragging. The fire family knows no borders. He will be missed by all who love him. 39. Gone far too soon.

And then the ride home, hearing about the KCFD's loss. The saves. The heroes we must now honor and the family we must now support. Firefighter Larry Leggio & Firefighter John Mesh - you will be missed.

My lunch is almost over. I will need to brighten my teary eyes and add my pictures later. But, this morning, on our way out the door together, I hugged him tightly. And then again...and again. He probably shook his head at me once he got in the car. But, tomorrow, it is not a guarantee. And this life, there is some uncertainty to it. I wanted to make sure that he was certain that he was loved.

Hug those FFs and all your family tightly. Tomorrow is not promised.

Life

Life happens. And you make choices. 

This blog got me through some rough points in my life - suddenly finding myself married to a firefighter, mainly. 

But, when life gets insane, I sadly tossed it to the side. 

I started to share all of the issues of my oh so routine surgery with this post.  I got the school year started and football and Infinite Campus and both girls in judo...and I was back in the hospital for a week. I missed Homecoming. I wasn't feeling right. Earlier in the week, I started bleeding.  Like heavy period bleeding.  Ummmm, yeah, all my lady parts were removed. After a CT scan, they found a vaginal fistula.  The more I researched, the more I realized no one really sees those. It is mostly found in 3rd World Countries and in older women. I was referred to a specialist. We were going to do a few more scans and decide if we were going to go with bowel rest - no food for three months - or a quite invasive surgery to repair the breech, That weekend was Homecoming.  J was on shift the night before and I was sicker than a dog. He went to the game...I called and made him come home. We went to the ER, were immediately sent to a room and I was admitted faster than I have ever seen before. The head of the department took my case and said he had never seen anything like this.  I was going septic. And still puking my guts out - they restricted my zofran.

Lovely nail polish thanks to
the even lovely Fire Wife Elly.

A few days into my stay, we did an NG tube, they decided there was a blockage. THAT SUCKED A$$! My gag reflex is so strong and you can't puke with an NG tube.  They got the blockage and were planning to leave it in for 2-3 days. Yeah, I made them take it out after 3 hours. Either they removed it, or I would. It was that simple. Fire Wife Elly was amazing and drove up for a few of those days, and sadly had to witness that horrible experience. She was amazing, I was not. 

After that god awful thing came out, I had one more violent bout with puking my guts out and miraculously, I felt human. I could walk the halls and handle the smell of food, without having to dash back. Clearly, the obstruction was a huge issue. 

A few more days in the hospital, including a fluoroscopy that had the residents running in to watch like any episode of Grey's Anatomy, without the viewing gallery, so they were all up close and personal with my nether regions.  If I had any modesty left after the babies, it was gone with this test. I realize that this test is NEVER seen in MDC, but holy crap. 

If you can picture the Ben Stein's character in Ferris Bueller, that was the doc doing this test. It was humourous. 

The fricking TEAM of specialist that had formed to deal with my crisis that no one could explain, suddenly found themselves with a mystery. The fistula that was clear as day - even my completely untrained eyes could see it  - had resolved. With no rhyme or reason.  I have my own thoughts, but that is for another day.  Suddenly, I was coming home.

This scared my FF, like no other issue before.  I have nearly died bringing three of the kids into the world.  But I think the docs saying that I was septic and they didn't think they would get me back...after the SNAFU with my surgery...after the 56 PEs...was more than he could really handle. He could have lost me several times over this summer/fall. Luckily, I am far too stubborn to go in such a mundane fashion.  We worry so much about them coming home, this time the shoe was on the other foot. Tomorrow is not a guarantee for any of us.

But, I have not been the same. I sleep...a lot. So not like me. I get tired so easily. I have never experienced this. 

The worst part of this - timing.  Murphy was clearly paying attention. Two days after I was admitted, my FF started a long term subbing position for a teacher on maternity leave.  Two + months of him not only on shift - but also teaching. That left me really having to carry the load at home, at a time when I could barely hold my head up after 4pm. Football, chess, debate, homework, church - really all falling in my lap at a time when I really needed to not be the strong firewife who takes on the world. 

And, sadly, THtH was neglected. I have some posts that I really need to get up.  I will get this bad girl up and running again.  I haven't abandoned her. 

Thanks for checking in.  For those of you who have kept me company through all of this, thanks for all your love, support and prayers. 

Love on those firefighters. Tomorrow is never promised.

No More Excuses, Just Effort

I know I have been gone for a bit.  I have been overwhelmed with life and  health and school and holidays and I have had a very hard time just FINDING something that I wanted to write about.  One of my dear FFW friends even called me out on it - "Is Trina EVER going to blog again?!?"  And I was apathetic in my answer, at best. I just didn't have anything to say.  Which is kinda hard to believe when you think of it.

And here, I am motivated to get the world to listen to me, if for no other reasons than prayers are needed. 

Facebook does wonderful things.  It allows new friends to connect over common ground and old friends to bridge the gap that the years have suddenly put between us.

I can't find the box that has these pictures in them.  I wish I
could for this post.
8th grade graduation - we were so cool.

A few years ago a middle school friend found me and through stalking her lists, I made more connections, a few of us worked together to bring others into the scene.  I went to a different high school than everyone else did.  Rehearsals and tournaments and performances and auditions and practices and homework made it insane and I lost track of so many of them.  We found each other through the miracle of modern social media and we said, we all need to get together.  

And that was a few years ago.

We  are scattered.  From Salt Lake City to blocks away from where we all went to school.  We are married and divorced and single and dating and parents and not.  We are just as diverse as we  were all those years ago when we were tight rolling our frosted jeans.

And now  we are  losing one of our one.  We are not yet into our 40s.  We have had one beat off breast cancer bravely and  beautifully.  We have had a scare or two.  And now one of us is in hospice because cancer sucks.  He got his diagnosis - a diffuse astrocytoma, fibrillary type, WHO grade II - in 2009 and bounced back amazingly.  But, a year and half ago, it came back.  He and his beautiful family have brought strength and love and inspiration every step of the way, to this dreadful journey. 

Such a beautiful family - courtesy of Anna Pocaro Photography
and Heal Courageously 

The holidays are over and he has been in the hospital since the day after Christmas.  And he will he never go home.  He has been moved to hospice.

courtesy of Anna Pocaro Photography
and Heal Courageously

We're not even 40, yet.  We have not had those over the hill parties where we share stories about how kids these days don't know what it was like and share all the lovely tales of all the Aqua Net in the bathroom and the amazing bus ride to DC that we all shared in 7th grade.  

So, here is the moral of my tale.  (Every good story has one, ya know.)  Tomorrow is  not guaranteed - so many of us have firefighters in our lives, we know that.  But that applies to everyone.  No one makes friends and thinks, "Hmmm, which one of us won't be here long?  I'll hang out with them."  We just don't work that way.  We never think it, that tragic moment when horrible news is given, will be here and yet, here it is. Whether it be cancer or a tragic accident, tomorrow is not promised.  So, instead, no more excuses.  Have that BBQ with childhood friends that has been talked about for all these years.  Celebrate your birthday with all your loved ones, no matter how many candles are on that cake - you're still here to blow them out.  Get together with all those co-workers that you bonded with in the beginning of your career.  Grab that cup of coffee, easier to apologize for being late to a previous engagement than wishing you had just taken the time to get together.  Call, email, send cards, have lunch.  Excuses will always be there.  There will always be something that comes up.  Figure it out.  We will not always be here.  Our kids will grow and  leave the nest.  Our loved one will not always be here. Fact of  life.  Some sooner, some later.  None worth the risk.

Now to take my own pontification to heart.  

The beautiful pictures of Mark, Jenny and their beautiful crew are from one of "us".  Anna Pocaro Photography did an amazing shoot when she came home last summer.  After surviving breast cancer not too long ago, she has begun to work with Heal Courageously, a non-profit focused on reaching out to the families and those affected by major illnesses.   Anna is definitely an angel among us.  She lives on the other side of the country and was home last summer to take these pictures.  I wish I had taken the time to meet up with her and her lovely family - but I let the excuses win.  No reminiscing over the Duran Duran concert or the slumber parties in the basement or going through the drive-through with our limo for our EIGHTH grade graduation, because I let life get in the way.  All I can do is shake my head and move on from here.

The true inspiration for today came as I was  reading a blog post about how  Mark and his family came out to the blogger's show and how moved she was  by that small gesture. They came to her opening even though they had so much already on their plates. It is a good piece, but nothing that would really be on my radar...until her last two sentences.

 In fact, each time you order a coffee this week and the barista asks you for your name, tell them that your name is Mark. Each time that a barista writes Mark on the side of yet another paper cup, it will be a prayer, and together all of our souls will spin like wheels and together, we will make room for miracles.

How simple and fast and easy is that?  No excuses, just effort.  And that was simple kick in the butt I needed to get back to my blog. Also a good excuse to send some prayers and good juju Mark's way.  Miracles happen everyday, whether we acknowledge them or not.  Buy your coffee and your lattes and put his name on that cup.  Starbucks might be confused, but they will get over it.  

And here's my New Year's Resolution - No More Excuses, Just Effort.  I know I can't be everything to everyone and every where every time.  BUT, I can make the effort - to play instead  of folding laundry, to have a cup of coffee, even if it is only f or an hour, to read one more book, to get the families together, to smile and make it happen - instead of going through the list of all the things I still have to do.

That list will always be there, but will they.

Peace, love and healing for 2014.  When they ask for your name - Mark.  And send your thoughts his way.

Happy Monday!

We made it.  We (collectively speaking) made it through the Boston Marathon, the West, Texas fire and the Boston lock-down manhunt.  We must take a moment today and say a prayer for the families, the victims, the amazing emergency personnel.  We must take a moment to remind ourselves that we are blessed to be here.  I found myself doing just this very thing this weekend.  I was grocery shopping with B.  The last motorized scooter was taken (in a snotty way) right in front of me by someone who "did not need it as much as I did" and I was FUMING!  For just a moment.  By the time I got into the produce section, which is literally right in the door, I reminded myself that I would walk again.  I reminded myself that the scooter was a luxury, but not a necessity.  My crutches and awesome boy served the same purpose and we rocked it - with some amazed glances along the way.  We need to remind ourselves of what we have and not focus on what we wish we had.  We need to say Thank You for what we have and not demand more.  

It is Monday.  The sun is shining - which is a big deal around here. My FF is off at his Fire Instructor I class. My cast comes off in a week.  Our veggies and flowers are starting to sprout under the grow lights on my hubby's work bench. (I am worried about a new knock on the door - one where they look at the lights coming from the basement and the increase in our electric bill!) My hubby picked up the patio blocks for our patio - I can't wait to sit out there.  My patio safe dishes came.  I am ready for summer in case you couldn't tell.  I just need to find a reasonable patio set, now.

My first marigold, in the early stage of its
bloom, brought such a smile...

Enjoy your life, no matter what stage it is in.  You are still here.  Fight through to find happiness, even if it is simply from the smile of a baby watching you or the waggidy tail hitting the door as you walk in.  Find the light in the darkness, even if you have to make your own light.  However, don't use a lighter under your bed for the light...I digress.  Hug your FFs and Muppets.  You never know what tomorrow brings, so enjoy the day.  Leave nothing unsaid...

Sometimes It Seems Too Much

I am tired and I can't sleep. This has been for a while now.  My brain keeps going after I am supposed to be getting some shut eye.  I have been sleeping on the couch, because I find it easier to fall asleep watching infomercials as opposed to my continually spinning to-do list that my mind is formulating and revising at all moments in time. The night before last, I got up and made the dough, because what else do you do at 2:13am when your FF is on shift and you can't sleep.  DUH!

First 9 done, wrapped and ready to go.

Yesterday, the compound cranked out THIRTY cookie cakes for Fire PreventionWeek.  We had the two ovens going non stop, from just about the time mass let out until nearly dinner time.  Then the sirens came, directly behind us.  Two Firewives that we are, we step out on the veranda to take a look see.  And our stomachs dropped.  Now, I am new to the neighborhood, but everyone has been so welcoming.  You feel like you've known them forever.  First an engine and the med unit right behind it.  Not a good sign.  And they stayed in the house - no one came out.  Not a good sign.  The engine did not leave once the meds were on scene - not a good sign.  It seemed like they were there forever.  The BLS Vultures were in front and they left.  Not a good sign.

Much prettier at the firehouse than in my backyard.

Then mom came out, with a look I cannot describe, but is forever in grained in my mind.  It was a look of a lost soul. She lost her 21 year-old son.  He was home for the weekend.  He just helped our boys rake their lawn.  Went to his room to work on some homework and never responded to the call for dinner.  She went up to get him and she found there - blue.  Her husband called 911 while she did CPR until Med 15 got there.  What do you say?  She just got done working her boy in the eternity that it took for help to arrive. There are no words.  There was nothing we could say.  I felt helpless.  I could never be a fire fighter.  I am too much of a control freak, if there is a problem, I want to fix it.  This couldn't be fixed.  I wanted to do something and couldn't do a single thing.  Her family was there quite quickly and I was ever so grateful that they were not alone with their grief.

Worst part of this WHOLE story, as if the heartbreak was not enough of losing one son.  She just buried her older son - 24 - 2 weeks ago.  How does a mother cope with losing both her boys in less than a month?  How do we as mothers, who feel her pain and yet cannot BEGIN to imagine her pain, support her?  What do you say?  How do you help?  You can't take the pain away, it will forever be burned on her heart.  Scars heal and made fade, but they are still ALWAYS there.

So, what else is there to do, but hug your kids.  I scooped them up and hugged them tight.  I kissed them over and over.  And we dropped off the cookies to Daddy's station (why wait until Monday)- waited in the fire house kitchen with the Battalion Chief until both rigs got back.  Enjoyed the smiles on the guys' faces as they grabbed their cookies by the  slice (imagine a pizza slice) and headed off to watch some Sunday Night Football like the teenage boys I have grown to love through my classroom.  Took in the smiles on the muppets faces' as Daddy loved them in his second home.  Then swept them up and off to bed, with some more love on the way.

It was the only thing that I could do to ease the ache that I had no right to feel.  Hug my kids.  I could still do that and I felt so guilty.  I felt like I was gloating in her grief.

I got them home and  settled in and I was determined to sleep in my own bed for a change; it has probably been a month of Green shifts since I last slept there alone.  I chatted with a dear friend of mine, while I tried to make sense of the whole scene.  I finally broke down and took some Tylenol PM, just to shut my head up for one night.  I drifted off into quiet of the dark night.

Here I am at the end of the school day, still a little hung-over, in a Zombie like state from the sleep aid, but it shut my head up for a night.  One night where I did not listen to my thoughts or have an argument with the Big Guy over what is fair.  It is not my place to ask why and yet here I am once again, asking why?  My FF is home tonight and I have more cookies to deliver.  Hopefully the sleep last night gave me the reserves I need to sort out the details in my cerebral hard drive and make peace with the Big Guy. Or at least ask him to look over another grieving family

Love your kids with all your heart.  Some day they just might not be here to bug you while you are trying to get stuff done.  There is no need to wish you had enjoyed it while they were bugging you, when you can start right now.  Embrace the constant stalling "I love you, Mom-my" hugs in the robot  voice and the requests to help with dinner even though it is easier to do it without them.

Hug your kids tight and kiss your firefighters goodnight.  There are way too many uncertainties for anything else.