This has been a long emotional week for me. As a lot of you know, my husband is the lead on the Rescue Dive Team for our county. They get called out for everything from people backing their vehicles up to load their boats and getting their vehicles pulled into the water, to people lost in the swimming areas, to crime scenes where weapons, vehicles and sometimes bodies have been dumped.
Friday a week ago, I was driving home and received a call from my husband saying they had kids in the water and had to go, I told him I'd be home in 15 minutes (to stay with our daughter), and told him to get going. All we knew was he had to get to the scene to pull out two kids. It was freezing, below freezing, and almost dark already. It turns out the scene was about an hour's drive away, and as they got closer, they got more information. Two children had been playing in the snow, sledding down a hill. At the bottom of the hill was a cattle pond that had iced over on the top. They had made several fun trips on their sled up and down the hill, and the youngest one, a girl, somehow slid further out, and ended up almost in the middle of the pond where the ice wasn't thick, and she broke through. I'm sure she was bundled for the cold weather, and that combined with the cold water didn't allow her to stay afloat. Her older brother rushed out to help her, and encountered the same issues, and was unable to save either his sister or himself.
My daughter and I were home safe, snuggled, and thankful for the safety of each other while we prayed for my husband, his team, the children, and their families. It was in the early morning hours that he came home, and in one look I could tell that this scene had hit him hard. We spent days talking about it off and on, rehashing it, with he and his team taking it very hard.
The next day, Saturday, I talked to a person in my family that I am extremely close to, and was told that they weren't going to be here much longer. I took the opportunity to tell them how I felt about them, and how much they meant to me, but was so very heart broken by the thought of not having them in my life, on the other end of the phone, anytime I chose to call.
It started as a dismal and emotional week at our house. We went on as normal, but there was just a somber feel to our home. On Wednesday I was working, and had an opportunity to visit with a friend about the feelings I was dealing with from these losses and emotional preparation I was trying to make to prepare myself for another goodbye.
Twenty minutes after we parted company for the day, I headed to my daughter's school to pick her up. When I pulled into the car line, I saw a police officer and two first responders working over a young boy in the soccer field next to the car line. I watched them cover him, and saw EMS arrive, rush to the boy, get him on the stretcher, and leave the school, Code 3. The boy was pronounced at the hospital. He was only in fourth grade. A soccer goal that was unsecured (400 lbs), had been tipped over, and in a tragic accident, he was struck down and the goal landed on his head. Although my child was not present at the time, she (and I) personally know other children who were there, who witnessed the accident, and who attempted to pull the heavy goal off of their friend and classmate.
More than anything I wanted to hold my daughter close and never let her go. She was a little emotional rollercoaster, with all these big situations to try to figure out in her head. We talked about it, as a family, then just she and I, and we cried and said many prayers.
Friday was a double funeral for a brother and sister who died having fun, and then trying to save each other.
Saturday was a funeral that cancelled all the kids Basketball games, and packed out the largest church in our town to say goodbye to an only child.
This is tough stuff to reconcile, to make peace with, to explain, to be thankful for your child laying safely next to you, and time to grieve for the parents who no longer have that luxury.
While my heart goes out to the families, extended families and friends of these people who have lost children, all I can do is pray for them, and know that no matter how much we miss these precious children here on earth, they are in a place where they will never hurt or suffer again.
What I can do, is say thank you. Thank you to the first responders who (in these locations are volunteers in most cases) are first on scene. To school nurses who don't just provide ice for bumps and motrin for headaches, but who hold the hand of an injured child even when there is nothing left for them to do. Thank you to the EMT's who train, then train some more, work long hours, sleep when we play, and work while we sleep. Thank you to the police officers who try to help us remain calm and keep order in these terrible times, no matter how sad they feel about the situation they are confronting. For facing the unknown every day, and praying they are the lucky ones who get to come home at night (or day), and hold their families and try to erase the memories of the ugly side of life they've seen all day. I want to say thank you to the firemen and women who arrive on scenes where there are no flames, just to offer and render aid, and fill the gaps of need until others arrive. And for all the times they go when there ARE flames, and try to save people, pets and home. Thank you to the dive team, volunteers who train on their own time, wear pagers and sleep with phones next to them, who are on call 24/7, holidays, family days, sick days and work days. Who go out in the dark and the cold, who search rivers, lakes and ponds, looking for loved ones that they know they will be recovering, not rescuing. Telling the family that "we are here until.....until we find them, until we bring them out, until we leave with them." They go in the cold, in the ice, in the rain, in the summer, in the day, in the night, and they do it for you. For me. For all of us. The families they help never know their names, but they will never forget their service.
So while I mourn during times like this, times I don't understand, times that are heart breaking and irreversible, I am thankful for the men and women, both volunteer and paid, who risk their life, spend their time, who train, who work hard, and sleep with one ear listening for their call, because one day, they may be doing it for me. My husband is a hero. My daughter has a hero in her own home. I am proud of him, and who he is. I don't know all the other heroes out there - but I see you - every time I watch the news, and know of all the service behind the story that most of us never see. I see you when I pass you on the road, even when you pull me over. :) I know you are there for me - for us - with the heart of a volunteer, the heart of someone who will put themselves out, just so someone else can be safe, saved, or recovered for a loving family. I know your heart hurts too, I know you mourn for the hurt and lost as much as anyone, and you keep putting yourself out there over and over. I can never say thank you enough, but I'll certainly try.
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