Memory

Every time I watch the end of Ladder 49, Backdraft, or attend the funeral of someone I know (firefighter or not) I always somehow return to the thought of my own funeral. The questions of "Who will be there?", "What stories will they tell of me?", "Will I have left behind a lasting memory?"

Where it's probably not a goo thought to have, it really doesn't bother me to ponder these questions. I can only hope that I'll be able to look down and see the support from firemen that I've met along the way as well as family and friends. I can only hope that stories and laughter will be shared rather than tears. But that hopes to be a ways away. 

One thing you don't want to do in this line of service, concerning family, is leave things undone. You want peace to be made, loving words to be said, and faith in all those who cared about you unquestioned. Your family and friends should never have to wonder whether you cared for them. To this day, we still tell stories of our past chief. How he used to show up on calls early in the morning with his tshirt and forestry pants. We were convinced that he always slept with those by his bed. We tell stories of how we would be summoned into his office cause we had done something dumb, or tell stories of how much he preached about safe driving and be the first one to scratch a truck or put it in a ditch. All fond memories, all laughs. That's how I want my memory to be.