01/01/2020
Some things are harder to write about than others. This would be one of those topics.
I was speaking with my daughter the other day, and she asked me why I sounded sad. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to say or how to respond.
Frankly, 2019 was a miserable tough sh***er of a year. There was a lot of death, an increase in the war on law enforcement, su***de numbers that made the Iraq War look like a day care center, and everywhere we looked, suddenly, churches, schools, grocery stores, synagogues and even private houses were no longer safe.
My daughter unfortunately, became intimately acquainted with death when a classmate of hers died suddenly at the age of 11. We all grieve differently, and my daughter chose to write a letter to her friend. I took the letter and about 20 helium balloons and let them go on a peak somewhere in Pennsylvania. But, I read the letter first…it broke my heart and opened my eyes to the soul of my child.
She first apologized to her friend. For what, I will never know, and then she asked if she was feeling better, had she met God yet? What does heaven look like? And so on. I don’t know if she got an answer of some kind, but I know that this simple act brought my child peace.
Losing someone, anyone, leaves behind waves of people who all grieve in different manners. Some cry it all out, some laugh and cry, some keep it all in until one day they explode. Even if someone attempts to remain stoic, eventually, the grief will find a way to manifest itself within that individual – often resulting in anger at the person who passed.
And yet, the person who passed is now at peace. We are not fully informed about death. Those that have gone before us have yet to make us cognizant as to what death is like. No one has ever come back a year later and told us “hey, yeah, here’s how it is”, and as such, that feeling of unknowing... is that person OK, where are they? Have they met God yet? often opens a chasm in our souls… the not knowing is so much worse than the knowing.
In 2017, I gave the support group I run a blessing that 2018 must possibly be better than the previous year. In 2018, I said the same thing… and now, as 2019 comes to an end, instead of a blessing for the New Year, we offer a prayer for those that have been lost, injured or hurting emotionally and physically, and the ones still holding the line.
Because as support for emergency services, and former law enforcement officers, we too hold the line. We hurt with you, we feel the pain when you bleed, when you see someone else that you so desperately wanted to help and couldn’t, the ones whose hands you held as they took their final breaths, and those that hurt so desperately they consciously made the choice to make an irreversible decision.
But sometimes, we break, and this year, I broke. I know I broke, and I know when I broke and what the catalyst was. And instead of asking for help as I knew I should, and as I was trained to do, I held it all in… all the while hearing the phrase “physician, heal thyself” running through my brain.
Thankfully, the statistics on Line of Duty Deaths were lower in 2019 than they were in 2018, but our su***de rates were some of the highest we’ve ever seen… and each and every death hit us twice as hard… our souls already bruised from the job, the media, the people, we’re now being beaten up from the inside. The hurt is so strong it is practically physical. But we soldier on, because that’s who we are, and “someone has to do it”. But in spite of the downward trend in the numbers, this year, each and every death, su***de or otherwise, felt personal. We did not know all the officers, but we hurt and cried over every single one. And we did it as a family, because bleeding blue means you always bleed blue. Current, retired, it matters not. We’re family. Period.
The month of December, the final month of 2019 had us figuring, sure, we can get through it, how difficult could it be? It’s 31 days…ain’t no thing!
Yet, December began with an assassination, beat downs, and brutal murders of police officers. It seemed as though we were going to bury a first responder every week leading up to Christmas.
And, on December 18, 2019, our Under the Shield and Partners in Crime families lost one. He was an integral part of our family, assisting without bragging about it to us, uplifting without bringing anyone down. His wacky sense of humor and love of the people closest to him were truly a gift. He would do anything he could, sometimes even beyond reason, to help someone… and then, one day, he didn’t wake up. December 18… We all have dates that mean things to us. For me, this will become one of those days…then, more su***des, and on December 24, 2019, I received a call that someone I knew and had known since they were a child, made that irreversible decision, and the break in my soul got bigger, and wider, and suddenly, I wasn’t me anymore. This year, in addition to all the first responders that I lost (and yes, I took them personally), I lost people that had profound impacts on how I grew up. I lost teachers, and former students, I watched their funerals live on the Internet since I was unable to attend them, and I lost my friend… because he didn’t wake up. I was angry. So, so, very angry because really, how much more can be taken from us before we start to ask why?
And then I realized the absurdity of the question. We are NOT asking why. We are NOT looking heavenward and saying “uhh, God? We need you down here, please!” We have become desensitized to our own pain and grief, and we are not asking for help, from anyone, and from The One.
God knows what we need. Sometimes, it’s a matter of asking for it, and every prayer request is answered. Though sometimes, the answer is no.
Coincidentally, as I was writing this, tears streaming down my face, a dear friend called. He told me, that he had been thinking that he knew I was under a lot of stress, and that I had not asked for help (I never was able to comfortably ask for help from anyone, and still can’t). My friend told me that I had taken tragedy, my pain, personal and professional, and turned it into a blessing for others. I don’t see that, and frankly, I’m not entirely sure I believe it, but it was a nice phone call, and it helped clear my eyes a little.
2020 is no longer coming. It’s HERE, and as first responders, emergency services, fire services, border patrol, dispatchers, corrections, law enforcement and veterans, we need to start looking upwards, and most importantly, when we are in pain, we need to learn to ask for help. There is no more time to “man up”. The time has come to get down on our knees, recognize and accept our pain, grieve as we need to, and ASK for HELP. It’s the first, and frankly, the hardest step. Call us. It's completely and 100% confidential. 855-889-2348
So, as 2020 begins, let us say a prayer, and ask God to please end the war on our men and women who serve so selflessly. Let us pray that the su***de rates and line of duty deaths go down to zero, and let us pray that God brings peace to the world.
To my children, both biological and “adopted” (you know who you are, all 700 of you), I want you to know that I am here. I am slowly working my way back to who I was, and I am here. I hear you, and I am asking, no, begging, that before any irreversible decisions are made, to talk to someone, even if it’s not me. I love each and every one of you. I wish you a year of blessings, love, peace and joy.
Rest in peace angels, go with God, and watch over us as we continue to hold the line.
With lots of love,
Doc.
