Sometimes I lie awake at night, thinking about how I came to be...
- Thread starter RFW
- Start date
RFW
Certified Night Owl
- Location
- United States
It was not all bad though. I got to spend a lot of time with the wife and kids. We took them to Disneyland. I couldn't get on any rides but I was glad they had loads of fun. The guys back at the station must have been jealous.
To think that I could have been an amputee was troubling at times. It was a real wake up call. I heard the young man who shot me would be tried as an adult. I hoped he would turn his life around. I'd like to think the second chance I gave him meant something, that it didn't lead him to a fate worse than death.
I began to rethink my career choice. I wasn't just going to make a big change, as usual. I was not easy for me to reinvent myself. There was comfort in going through the motions.
My parents came to see us for Christmas and New Year. I told them I tripped on something and broke my leg. They didn't need to know the truth. They didn't need the stress. It was heartwarming to have everyone here.
Some time later, my mom called and told me dad had fallen ill but he was doing okay. She told me to come right away. I told her I couldn't. I had promised to cover for one of the guys at work. I asked her to put him on the phone. She wouldn't. That was not a good sign. I pushed her harder until she came clean and said dad had passed away last night of a heart attack. I had just talked to him last week. I didn't cry. I was just stunned. I told her I would call back as I needed time to make arrangements. I hung up and just sat there. All the memories of him came rushing back to me, all the things I never said, all the things I wanted him to know. I cried in my wife's arms that night.
I made it back to my hometown. Mom wasn't too broken up about it. She was just happy to see me I guess. I cried again when I saw his lifeless body. He looked so peaceful, free of pain. I thought about how he had changed in the last couple years of his life. It was like he had taken off his armor and become a warmer person. He hugged me more. I found it strange at the time. I wished I had shown him more love. I did care but I should have shown it. I always regret things when it's already too late to do anything about it. I recalled one of the last things he said to me. He said "Whatever you do, I hope you find happiness in life". I shouldn't have disregarded at first. Now, when I think of this, I think of him.
We went through his stuff. I found some computer books. I didn't know he was interested in computer. I found some woodwork he enjoyed making so much. A lot of unfinished projects. We cleaned up the place and boarded it up. We didn't want to sell it. He left everything to me as an only son. He knew I would give mom anything she wanted. She came to live with us back home.
All the teachings I got came from dad. Mom was always in the background, making sure I was properly clothed and fed. She did teach me how to be tidy. I never had a messy room and I liked that. Like my wife, she always kept busy, helping us with chores. She loved my wife for how well she had taken care of me and the boys.
She died a few years later of the same goddamned disease. I'm glad she was with us when she did. I guess it really does run in the family. I hope it didn't get passed down to my boys. I hope they outlive me.
To be continued...
To think that I could have been an amputee was troubling at times. It was a real wake up call. I heard the young man who shot me would be tried as an adult. I hoped he would turn his life around. I'd like to think the second chance I gave him meant something, that it didn't lead him to a fate worse than death.
I began to rethink my career choice. I wasn't just going to make a big change, as usual. I was not easy for me to reinvent myself. There was comfort in going through the motions.
My parents came to see us for Christmas and New Year. I told them I tripped on something and broke my leg. They didn't need to know the truth. They didn't need the stress. It was heartwarming to have everyone here.
Some time later, my mom called and told me dad had fallen ill but he was doing okay. She told me to come right away. I told her I couldn't. I had promised to cover for one of the guys at work. I asked her to put him on the phone. She wouldn't. That was not a good sign. I pushed her harder until she came clean and said dad had passed away last night of a heart attack. I had just talked to him last week. I didn't cry. I was just stunned. I told her I would call back as I needed time to make arrangements. I hung up and just sat there. All the memories of him came rushing back to me, all the things I never said, all the things I wanted him to know. I cried in my wife's arms that night.
I made it back to my hometown. Mom wasn't too broken up about it. She was just happy to see me I guess. I cried again when I saw his lifeless body. He looked so peaceful, free of pain. I thought about how he had changed in the last couple years of his life. It was like he had taken off his armor and become a warmer person. He hugged me more. I found it strange at the time. I wished I had shown him more love. I did care but I should have shown it. I always regret things when it's already too late to do anything about it. I recalled one of the last things he said to me. He said "Whatever you do, I hope you find happiness in life". I shouldn't have disregarded at first. Now, when I think of this, I think of him.
We went through his stuff. I found some computer books. I didn't know he was interested in computer. I found some woodwork he enjoyed making so much. A lot of unfinished projects. We cleaned up the place and boarded it up. We didn't want to sell it. He left everything to me as an only son. He knew I would give mom anything she wanted. She came to live with us back home.
All the teachings I got came from dad. Mom was always in the background, making sure I was properly clothed and fed. She did teach me how to be tidy. I never had a messy room and I liked that. Like my wife, she always kept busy, helping us with chores. She loved my wife for how well she had taken care of me and the boys.
She died a few years later of the same goddamned disease. I'm glad she was with us when she did. I guess it really does run in the family. I hope it didn't get passed down to my boys. I hope they outlive me.
To be continued...
RFW
Certified Night Owl
- Location
- United States
Thank you so much.
RFW
Certified Night Owl
- Location
- United States
Thank you for reading as well!
RFW
Certified Night Owl
- Location
- United States
I think we all felt some sense of invincibility when we were young. I did but I I had never wanted to throw my life away on purpose. I was in mid 40s now. Mortality was starting to get to us. Me and the guys. We felt like we had been through so much and also done so much. We jokingly talked about what our funerals would be like. I said I wasn't gonna to go any of their stinkin' funerals and they were welcome to get the f**k out of mine. I'd haunt the s**t out of them. We all wrote notes that would be given to our families in case something happened to any of us. We agreed that they would want closure.
We saw unpleasant things all the time. Things you just want to look away. Things you just have to get used to but you never do. We shared our experiences but there were some things we were more comfortable keeping to ourselves. We each had our own coping mechanisms.
I used to like horror/slasher movies, being the mature kid that I was. I didn't see the appeal anymore. I'm sure doctors and nurses have seen worse. How do they get used to it? Do they ever?
I was back in business again. Glad nothing bad happened while I was gone. I loved the days when nothing happened, driving and chatting all day long. There is beauty in everything, you just have to look for it.
Today started out the same as most days. Jacob rode with me. I had been solo for the past two days. I listened to him talking smack about some girl I didn't even know. I got a call to do a welfare check. He said he knew the family, husband and wife and a kid. Should be easy enough. We got to their place, rang the doorbell, got no answer. He said we should check his place of business. It was a clock repair shop located on a quiet street. I parked on the opposite side of the shop. My belt had somehow become loose. I must have loosen it when we were having lunch and I ate too much. I told him "Hey, wait up!" but he was already out the door. He never listened to me. Now I knew what it felt like when I did the same to him. It took me almost a minute but I was all geared up now. I headed to the shop and as I opened the door, I heard a loud bang. The shop owner with a gun in his hand was standing in front of me, looking to my right, couldn't have been more than fifteen feet. He started turning towards me but my shots had already been fired, without any hesitation in my mind. I shot him four times until his fat ass went down. I secured the weapon and turned around to see Jacob lying on the floor. I checked on him and saw a gunshot wound to his temple. He was shot point blank. He must have been dead before he hit the ground. That son of a b**ch didn't even give him a chance to fight back. He would have been utterly destroyed. I radioed for help and all I remember doing was putting my hands over his wounds, saying something to get a response. That fat f**k could just choke on his own blood for all I cared.
Help arrived. He was pronounced dead at the scene. I remember just sitting on a sidewalk, crying my eyes out. I could have just finished him off but that would have been mercy. It'd be better to leave him rotting in jail for the rest of his life.
I was told to take a day off.
Dealing with the aftermath was tough. I was never good at expressing condolences. I went to his funeral, gave his letter to his mom and hugged her. I told her I was sorry I was too late to save him. She had no idea how close I was. If only I had just one more second.
I went to a therapist as requested by my boss. Same old stuff I had heard before that meant much less coming from somebody I didn't personally know. I had never had an outburst. They had no reason to suspend me. I would just have to deal with it my own way. A week off should be enough time to clear my head.
To be continued...
We saw unpleasant things all the time. Things you just want to look away. Things you just have to get used to but you never do. We shared our experiences but there were some things we were more comfortable keeping to ourselves. We each had our own coping mechanisms.
I used to like horror/slasher movies, being the mature kid that I was. I didn't see the appeal anymore. I'm sure doctors and nurses have seen worse. How do they get used to it? Do they ever?
I was back in business again. Glad nothing bad happened while I was gone. I loved the days when nothing happened, driving and chatting all day long. There is beauty in everything, you just have to look for it.
Today started out the same as most days. Jacob rode with me. I had been solo for the past two days. I listened to him talking smack about some girl I didn't even know. I got a call to do a welfare check. He said he knew the family, husband and wife and a kid. Should be easy enough. We got to their place, rang the doorbell, got no answer. He said we should check his place of business. It was a clock repair shop located on a quiet street. I parked on the opposite side of the shop. My belt had somehow become loose. I must have loosen it when we were having lunch and I ate too much. I told him "Hey, wait up!" but he was already out the door. He never listened to me. Now I knew what it felt like when I did the same to him. It took me almost a minute but I was all geared up now. I headed to the shop and as I opened the door, I heard a loud bang. The shop owner with a gun in his hand was standing in front of me, looking to my right, couldn't have been more than fifteen feet. He started turning towards me but my shots had already been fired, without any hesitation in my mind. I shot him four times until his fat ass went down. I secured the weapon and turned around to see Jacob lying on the floor. I checked on him and saw a gunshot wound to his temple. He was shot point blank. He must have been dead before he hit the ground. That son of a b**ch didn't even give him a chance to fight back. He would have been utterly destroyed. I radioed for help and all I remember doing was putting my hands over his wounds, saying something to get a response. That fat f**k could just choke on his own blood for all I cared.
Help arrived. He was pronounced dead at the scene. I remember just sitting on a sidewalk, crying my eyes out. I could have just finished him off but that would have been mercy. It'd be better to leave him rotting in jail for the rest of his life.
I was told to take a day off.
Dealing with the aftermath was tough. I was never good at expressing condolences. I went to his funeral, gave his letter to his mom and hugged her. I told her I was sorry I was too late to save him. She had no idea how close I was. If only I had just one more second.
I went to a therapist as requested by my boss. Same old stuff I had heard before that meant much less coming from somebody I didn't personally know. I had never had an outburst. They had no reason to suspend me. I would just have to deal with it my own way. A week off should be enough time to clear my head.
To be continued...