The fire service has it wrong.
Now that I've pissed off most of the firefighters who will ever read this, I'll explain what I mean by that.
First, let me point out that I said "fire service", not individual firefighters. And that's an important distinction.
The fire service is steeped in tradition. Born of the original "blue collar" boys, folks that were willing to run in where others wouldn't go. Willing to pass buckets of water down a line to save a barn, a house, someone's life and livelihood. Willing to take risks that most of us can't even imagine. These boys worked hard, and lived by a code and an honor that most of us can't comprehend.
These traditions can be found in every firehouse in the country (and I would imagine, in most in the world). A brotherhood that can't be properly explained unless you're part of it. My husband can walk into any firehouse in the world, identify himself as a firefighter, and he will be accepted as one of their own. And when it comes to individual firefighters, I could probably walk into those same firehouses, identify myself as a firefighter's wife, and immediately be accepted and treated with respect.
Unfortunately, that same acceptance is forgotten by the fire service as a whole, and by those that represent them. And that's a shame, because I am one of the driving forces behind the fire service.
What people forget is this.....when my husband goes into that burning building to save your child, my life, my heart and my light go with him. When he cuts your husband out of a mangled car, my life, my heart and my light help guide the extrication tools. When he breathes life back into the toddler he has pulled out of your backyard pool, my life, my heart and my light help fill your child's lungs. When his gentle hands place your grandmother on a stretcher to take her to the medical care she needs, my life, my heart and my light help secure her and keep her safe. And when the roof caves in, and he has to call for help....my life, my heart and my light will help keep him safe until his brothers bring him home.
Most wives don't have to think about things like "line of duty death", and what happens if the chief's car pulls up into the driveway. They don't have to think about things like making sure that laundry gets done separately to keep bio-hazards out of every day clothes. They don't have to think about things like "family liaisons" that will help navigate the terrifying waters of life insurance and state benefits. Most wives get to kiss their husbands goodnight every night. When I married a firefighter, I knew that I would spend many nights alone.
I have had to drive myself to the emergency room, sit in hospitals recovering from surgery, attend family and church events, and a myriad of other things, by myself. Not because my husband doesn't want to be there, but because he needs me to be independent, strong, and capable enough to take care of things on my own. That gives him the security, and the ability, to be there to handle other people's emergencies. He is calm and capable, strong and humble.
To their credit, most individual firefighters recognize the importance of being a fire wife. Most of them understand that, just like our firefighters, we are a unique breed. I just wish the fire service as a whole would come to the same realization.
Until the fire service, and those that represent them, understand that the strength behind their members comes from the women that choose to support them, they are missing half of the picture. My husband has his brothers, but it's important that they start to remember there is a sisterhood that needs to be recognized as well.
I hope that eventually, they will no longer see me as "just a wife", and will start to see me as an integral part of what makes the fire service work. We enable those heroes to save lives. We enable those heroes to sacrifice, and we choose to sacrifice as well.
So, the next time someone tells me that I'm "just a wife", I'm going to tell them to kiss my foot. I'm not, and will never be "just a wife"....I am a FIRE WIFE.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
It's the fire life for me
You know, I've been asked if I really am ok with what my husband does for a living. Um, yeah I am. I mean seriously, how many women get to say their husbands are superheroes? Ok, maybe not super hero, but definitely hero.
Think about it. Can most women say definitively that their spouse would die for them? Or for anyone that needed them? We all give lip service to "I'd die for you", but really? Not many men have that kind of courage. Mine does.
Sure, there are sacrifices that go with that. And days/nights of worry when he is on duty or goes out on a call. And there are holidays that get designated to different days on the calendar because he's on duty. And there are risks. And, and, and.....
But really, it's amazing to be married to a man that has that kind of courage. That kind of honor. That kind of willingness to sacrifice for others.
Yep, it means that I have to learn to handle a lot of things on my own. Yep, it means that I get to make sacrifices, too. Yep, it means that I sleep alone some nights. And no, not every woman is cut out for this kind of life.
But, I can say, without a doubt, that I'm never truly alone. Case in point....my husband was off at a function for a local FD yesterday, and I had to call and tell him the A/C had stopped working. He wasn't sure when he would be home. 10 minutes later, two other firefighters were at my house to check the A/C and get it working again. Who does that? His brothers do.
So, am I ok with what he does? Definitely! Do I worry? Without a doubt. But, am I one of the luckiest women on the planet? You bet I am.
So...it's the fire life for me!
Think about it. Can most women say definitively that their spouse would die for them? Or for anyone that needed them? We all give lip service to "I'd die for you", but really? Not many men have that kind of courage. Mine does.
Sure, there are sacrifices that go with that. And days/nights of worry when he is on duty or goes out on a call. And there are holidays that get designated to different days on the calendar because he's on duty. And there are risks. And, and, and.....
But really, it's amazing to be married to a man that has that kind of courage. That kind of honor. That kind of willingness to sacrifice for others.
Yep, it means that I have to learn to handle a lot of things on my own. Yep, it means that I get to make sacrifices, too. Yep, it means that I sleep alone some nights. And no, not every woman is cut out for this kind of life.
But, I can say, without a doubt, that I'm never truly alone. Case in point....my husband was off at a function for a local FD yesterday, and I had to call and tell him the A/C had stopped working. He wasn't sure when he would be home. 10 minutes later, two other firefighters were at my house to check the A/C and get it working again. Who does that? His brothers do.
So, am I ok with what he does? Definitely! Do I worry? Without a doubt. But, am I one of the luckiest women on the planet? You bet I am.
So...it's the fire life for me!
I am
**This is a post from a previous blog...I didn't want to lose it, so have copied it here.**
My husband and I went to a funeral today. It was tragic, it was beautiful, it was unimaginable, and it was enlightening. There will be story after story about today's funeral, so I'm not going to dwell on it, but on something I learned today.
My husband is a firefighter. He's part of this special brotherhood that he's tried to describe to me over and over, and that I thought I understood. But today, I learned something about that brotherhood. I sat in a sea of navy uniforms and brass badges, and watched grown men with their shoulders bent and their heads bowed, as they wept for the pain of a brother who lost his child. Some of them, many of them, didn't even know this brother, but he is theirs, and his pain is shared. They laughed and cried at the stories being told as if they had lost a beloved nephew, and in many ways, they had.
And then these strong, honorable men - men who have vowed to give their own lives if it will save another - carried this child to a waiting fire truck, an honor normally reserved for one of their own. They stood on the side and tail boards of this truck and carried this baby to his final resting place. Along the way were more brothers and sisters, at every intersection standing proud and saluting a 4 year old who inspired the world. Strangers, but family, with their hands over their hearts, or their hats in their hands, grieving because that's what families do.
There was a sign stretched across the road, hung from the ladders of two trucks. The sign said "Dyrk Strong" to honor a little boy lost, and the strength he showed as he fought a losing battle.
While I watched these men, and learned what this brotherhood really means, I also watched the women with them. They cried, they hurt, and yet, they stood. That quiet, gentle strength that gives a man the courage to live his dream, and risk his life. They stood. And I realized, as I hugged a woman that lived through the unimaginable this week, my husband isn't the only one.
As much as he is a part of this strong and honorable brotherhood, I have become a part of something just as powerful. These are my sisters, my strength in the long nights. These are the women who very often get forgotten when we thank a first responder for what he does. These are the women that make it possible. They keep the home and hearth, they hold the families together, and they make it worth coming through the fire.
I learned today, that no matter what else I am or have been, I am.....a firefighter's wife
My husband and I went to a funeral today. It was tragic, it was beautiful, it was unimaginable, and it was enlightening. There will be story after story about today's funeral, so I'm not going to dwell on it, but on something I learned today.
My husband is a firefighter. He's part of this special brotherhood that he's tried to describe to me over and over, and that I thought I understood. But today, I learned something about that brotherhood. I sat in a sea of navy uniforms and brass badges, and watched grown men with their shoulders bent and their heads bowed, as they wept for the pain of a brother who lost his child. Some of them, many of them, didn't even know this brother, but he is theirs, and his pain is shared. They laughed and cried at the stories being told as if they had lost a beloved nephew, and in many ways, they had.
And then these strong, honorable men - men who have vowed to give their own lives if it will save another - carried this child to a waiting fire truck, an honor normally reserved for one of their own. They stood on the side and tail boards of this truck and carried this baby to his final resting place. Along the way were more brothers and sisters, at every intersection standing proud and saluting a 4 year old who inspired the world. Strangers, but family, with their hands over their hearts, or their hats in their hands, grieving because that's what families do.
There was a sign stretched across the road, hung from the ladders of two trucks. The sign said "Dyrk Strong" to honor a little boy lost, and the strength he showed as he fought a losing battle.
While I watched these men, and learned what this brotherhood really means, I also watched the women with them. They cried, they hurt, and yet, they stood. That quiet, gentle strength that gives a man the courage to live his dream, and risk his life. They stood. And I realized, as I hugged a woman that lived through the unimaginable this week, my husband isn't the only one.
As much as he is a part of this strong and honorable brotherhood, I have become a part of something just as powerful. These are my sisters, my strength in the long nights. These are the women who very often get forgotten when we thank a first responder for what he does. These are the women that make it possible. They keep the home and hearth, they hold the families together, and they make it worth coming through the fire.
I learned today, that no matter what else I am or have been, I am.....a firefighter's wife
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