Just. Thank You
To be thankful for the little things. To see them and let them not be overshadowed by the temporary accolades. To not downplay the importance of everyday kindness. "If variety is the spice of life, the routine is its essence." To be as smart as the one who told me that, and to really feel it within my soul. To understand the implications.
To value others in my life, all the roles that people play. I am blessed to have the friends that I have. To have this undeveloped of an understanding of how to relate to other people and to have the friends that I have is a gift that I think myself, sometimes, unworthy of. But because of this gift, to be the last one to talk about my own achievements, and to be the first to glorify yours. To be satiated by something as simple as putting the welfare of a friend over my own. Or to be able to offer a willing ear in a gale. And to not boast or look for thank-yous.
To have been given the calling I've been given, even if I don't fully understand it yet. To be able to start the hydraulic tools on 44, use them to cut open a passenger van that holds a patient with two tib-fib fractures, and to not need to talk about it once the scene is cleared. To have it be a part of the routine. To understand simply that it is what I can do, and therefore what I should do, and to have it be no more than that. To each what they can withstand, and from each what they can withstand. Not my will, but Yours.
For the award. Nothing has come out right since he held the plaque and said my name. All I really recall is getting not one, but two hugs from the man I wish to emulate more than anyone in the world. That I didn't even want the interview. Or the picture. That it was given in front of those chosen few was enough.
For the solid understanding of common courtesy. For not blowing up when I came home on Thursday night. For the wisdom to know what is petty and what is not, and for not overreacting to either.
For seeing life as the small and staccato blip on the radar screen that it is. While you are alive and able, be good.
To value others in my life, all the roles that people play. I am blessed to have the friends that I have. To have this undeveloped of an understanding of how to relate to other people and to have the friends that I have is a gift that I think myself, sometimes, unworthy of. But because of this gift, to be the last one to talk about my own achievements, and to be the first to glorify yours. To be satiated by something as simple as putting the welfare of a friend over my own. Or to be able to offer a willing ear in a gale. And to not boast or look for thank-yous.
To have been given the calling I've been given, even if I don't fully understand it yet. To be able to start the hydraulic tools on 44, use them to cut open a passenger van that holds a patient with two tib-fib fractures, and to not need to talk about it once the scene is cleared. To have it be a part of the routine. To understand simply that it is what I can do, and therefore what I should do, and to have it be no more than that. To each what they can withstand, and from each what they can withstand. Not my will, but Yours.
For the award. Nothing has come out right since he held the plaque and said my name. All I really recall is getting not one, but two hugs from the man I wish to emulate more than anyone in the world. That I didn't even want the interview. Or the picture. That it was given in front of those chosen few was enough.
For the solid understanding of common courtesy. For not blowing up when I came home on Thursday night. For the wisdom to know what is petty and what is not, and for not overreacting to either.
For seeing life as the small and staccato blip on the radar screen that it is. While you are alive and able, be good.
