I started this Friday Truth more times than I’d like to admit, and somewhere along the way, I had to ask myself who it was really for. I’d like to say it’s for the firefighter who is struggling right now, the one who might read it and feel a little less alone, though some of it is probably for me, too. I’m not even sure where this one came from, other than a Rolodex of faces I keep in my head, built from the stories firefighters have shared with me. I’d rather be honest about that up front, because I’m still searching for the right words, and I’d hate to pretend I’ve found them.
Some weeks it feels like for every firefighter who’s doing well, I hear from five who are coping with something they wish they weren’t facing. Maybe I notice it because I look for it, and anyone who goes looking for something usually finds it. I’m honestly unsure why it’s this way, and maybe life is just like this.
What I have noticed is a common thread running among the members who seem to be losing their way or doubting where they fit. They care, and many of them have the biggest hearts of any of us. Much of what they’re dealing with comes from being treated in ways they would never treat another person, and that’s the part that makes it so hard to accept. When you couldn’t fathom doing something to someone else, it’s hard to make sense of it being done to you, and harder still to understand how you ended up where you are. They still show up, and many still have a crew and a family at home, but family is a feeling as much as it is people, and the feeling can disappear while everyone stays right where they are.
Finding Grace in the Hardest Moments
I can’t tell you how your situation turns out. What I hope is that whatever you’re going through eventually reveals itself as something you grow from, something that leads you toward acceptance and away from loneliness and regret. Every day is fragile, and the way a day starts and the way it ends can be two completely different stories. Most of us are imperfectly perfect firefighters, having imperfect days and getting by anyway. You already know how to give people grace, because you’ve handed it out every time you showed up for someone. Turn a little of it on yourself, especially for the things you never chose.
The military has a saying: be hard to kill. I’d offer firefighters in a dark stretch a version of their own: be hard to forget. In my opinion, pulling back is a survival instinct, and it may be what got you this far. It can buy you time, and that time is meant for finding your way back. Start small, with one text answered or one conversation at the table that outlasts the first cup of coffee. Stay in the room, even if it’s the corner of it, and let one person know where you are.
Speaking only for myself, I care, and I believe a profession that shows up for strangers on the worst day of their lives has to show up for its own. When you find your footing again, I hope you share how you did it, because somebody else is standing right where you’re standing now.
You Matter More Than You Know
The truth is, I don’t know why so many good people end up hurting, and I may never find the right words for it. I wrote this anyway because the faces in that Rolodex deserve to know somebody noticed. If you’re one of them, your heart is a big part of why this is so hard. It’s also the reason we need you. We only do well when we all do well, and that has always included you.
Photo by Steve Baer | FireDog Photos
