So we had date night tonight and I really just wanted to stay home, but glad we went. We ate at Ichiban and saw Fast 6 and then Sam got a fire call as we were eating the theater. A good one. A house fire. So we came home and he left immediately. Sometimes he is home within ten minutes, but not this time, it really is a house fire so it may be hours before he comes back. But as long as he comes back, I don't care how long it takes.
On April 28, 2012, I married a hero. But not just any hero, a firefighter. 2325.
He risks his life at the drop of a pin, at the sound of tones, day or night, he leaves to help those in danger. He saves the lives of strangers, and sometimes friends, neighbors, that need help.
He chooses to take this risk and that is just one of the many reasons I fell in love with him -- he is unselfish, humble, and compassionate. He likes to help others, just like I do, but on a totally different level. He is always prepared to give the ultimate gift and I pray every-single-day that he never has to.
He runs to his truck when the calls go out, but first kisses me goodbye and promises me he will always come back.
But there is always that chance... I ignore it. Sometimes I get this uneasy feeling when he is gone and I know "it's a good one." Sometimes I hurt from worry, and I'm not okay until he is back home and I am in his arms, his skin filthy from smoke and his clothes smelling like a bonfire. I can't sleep, I lie in bed with Zoe. It's uneasy and terrifying, and all I can do is pray.
Because I believe, whole-heartedly, that God will bring him home to me, just like Sam promises me before he runs to his truck, to run into burning buildings. For strangers. With his brothers who have got his back.
He tells me not to worry. He has had hundreds of hours of training. Classes. Continuing education. Certifications. He is knowledgable and passionate about it. But that still doesn't always make me feel better.
Sometimes I get defensive about his occupation and people don't get it. They think that firefighters just sit around. And sometimes they do when they aren't busy pre-planning buildings, flushing hydrants, saving animals, taking kids on tours of the firehall, regardless, they are always ready to help someone. To risk it all for anyone who needs help.
In the past, they have been overlooked, mistreated, and even called lazy at times. But guess what? When those people's houses catch on fire, or they have a car accident and the jaws of life have to be used to get them out, guess who does that? Firefighters. The ones you called lazy. The ones you need to help you. Right now.
[rant over]
And on a totally unrelated side note -- he looks hot in uniform. And bunker pants. WHOA.
So I thank God every day that He brought this hero into my life. I have been blessed with a selfless man that thankfully loves me for who I am (and that has to be hard sometimes, seriously), sees the best in me, and says he's happy to be with me forever and that he loves me more than anything. I love him more than I could ever explain to anyone because honestly, there are no words. I am beyond proud of him and blessed to be his wife, living this fire life. I wouldn't want it any other way.
