Wonderful Life Reflection

This is not my house, but pretty, isn’t it?

This is not even my story, but it’s special because it’s my Dad’s story. 

This season, on our way to dinner with my parents, before seeing “It’s a Wonderful Life” at the Marcus theater. Our family loves this holiday classic, such a good reminder of who you are and that your life makes a difference. My parents are a little like George and Mary Bailey, with family and friends upon friends that mean the world to them. People that would do anything for them, and vice versa.

So we were driving and my Dad pointed out this house on the way. My Dad, a retired firefighter was one of the first paramedics in Addison. He helped start the program.

“That was our first save,” he says. He didn’t elaborate, but I knew what he meant.

The house is now much bigger than what I remember when I was in high school - many renovations, and add-ons. All lit up in holiday lights, beautifully done.

On the way home I want to stop to take a picture. My daughter asks why?
I ask my Dad to tell the story. 

“I already told it 6-7, a few times. I don’t want to brag.” 

“It’s okay. I want to hear it, Dad” 

“That was our first save.”

“What do you mean?” I’m hoping my daughter is listening. 

“That was Addison’s [Addison Fire Department} first save. A paramedic call. We walked in the door, the woman was in the room to the right, and the whole family was in the room upset and crying to the left. They said she was dead. We checked and her eyes were responsive. We had to drag her to the floor and started CPR.”

Her head hit with a thump. ‘whoops’ Dad motions with concern the family was all like “aahhh… ahhhh.”

He continues, “she was wearing a long flowing gown and we started to cut it off,” Dad continues, “again the family was upset, more crying. But we needed to cut the pretty white gown so we could get to her chest, to use the paddles. We hit her a few times and she started to breathe. We got her on the bus [ambulance] and she survived.”

He continued, “Later that year, the family came to the station to thank us. Brought cake, you know, the guys like that.”

“I didn’t greet them. I couldn’t face them.” My Dad continued, always being the tough guy.

“I didn’t want to get emotional in front of the guys. You know the watery eyes and stuff.” 

I could just imagine my Dad in the background watching the family and how their lives would be forever changed because of his action.

In 2023 and your life, this is my wish for you, may you have work, and a passion, so that you remember the stories well into your golden years in such a vivid way, even when you don’t remember what you had for breakfast, as my Dad says. 

You make a difference. Your actions impact not just you but others.

Your life here, the lives you touch matters. So keep being you. 

Love to all. Cheers to 2022 and all that 2023 brings.