A Firefighter's Wife

I am a firefighter's wife. I'm proud of my husband. He selflessly gives of himself to helps those in need. Whether it be a medical emergency or a burning building- he's there to help. I've talked before of what a day in our live's is like when he is on shift. Recently Dallas Fire Rescue lost one of their own in the line of duty and it brought to the surface fears I live with everyime my husband leaves for his shift.

I come from a long line of firefighters. My grandfather battle blazes in Chicago with little more than a coat, fire boots and a hat (no air packs back in his early days). Buildings burned a lot more frequently back then. I can't imagine how my grandmother felt everyday my grandfather left for his shift.

By comparison, Jon's lucky. There's been life saving advancements in the fire service, not only with protective gear, but buildings are generally safer because of sprinkler systems. While my head knows losing a fireman in the line of duty is rare these days, I can't help but be anxious when he walks out the door. When we talk and he has to abrutly end the call because he's just been called to someone else's emergency my emotions run from- my hero to sickness in the pit of my stomach that something could happen. People just don't pay attention some times even with all those lights and sirens wailing. He's got a great crew with him and his captains would never risk the lives of that crew to save a building, but accidents happen- just like they did this past Sunday in Dallas. That firefighter leaves behind a wife and two small children. I don't know how or if I could cope with such a tragic loss.

That being said, I wouldn't change a thing about Jon or his passion for the fire service. It's what defines him. He's selfless, a hero and an example for so many kids who can't wait to grow up to be fire fighters too.