Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Breaking my own rules

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It’s Sunday and whether or not you attend some sort of worship service, I think Sunday is the ideal time for quiet reflection and a time to release a lot of what’s jumbled up inside our heads. Sometimes it’s a release. Sometimes it provides clarity. And sometimes, like this morning for me, it’s simply therapeutic.

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It’s officially my third week back in the saddle and I’ve already broken my own rules. It’s really hard to just let go and write when you haven’t done it in a while. And I’ve been thinking about what I wanted my brain dump to be. And when I sat down to write what I thought I wanted to write, it just didn’t flow. It didn’t come out.

I had started to write about fallen heroes and social media. In my other job working social media for a fire department, I’ve had to learn some quick lessons in artfully using social media to connect people to a rather sorrowful event. We lost one of our firefighters in a line of duty death and me, normally as emotional as they come, has been pretty stoic all week. All business. Understanding the protocol that comes with a funeral with high honors. Making sure I get the wording just right. Finding the right thing to say at the right time.

Honestly, it wsan’t as difficult as I thought it would be because a firefighter’s funeral, of this type anyway, is fairlyr egimented. We know what is going to happen. The difficulty for me was in attending the viewing and trying to be respectful while still doing my job. Seeing what they call a “sea of blue” – all the firefighters in their dress uniforms, an open casket, and a long and firm handshake with members of his family. Standing in front of his mother, I was at a loss for words. I had never met her son but I could imagine being a mother having to bury her own son.

I wondered if the pomp and circumstance makes everything bigger, more emotional, more dramatic. Or if it lets her know her son had a life well-lived. Either way, through all of my time spent at the station and talking to many, many people, I’ve realized that a 29 year old paramedic that I’ve never met and will never have a chance to meet has certainly had a lasting impact on my life.