Worrying is something I just don’t do; not about my fireman anyways. I’ve worried about finances before, or whether the friendly officer was really using his radar, or whether my daughter’s asthma warrants a trip to the hospital, but I’ve never really worried about my fireman fighting a fire. Today was the first time I’ve experienced any worry over his work. I can say honestly that while I never allowed panic to settle in, I never fully relaxed until I heard his voice over the radio, responding to another call.
I guess I’m unusual this way. Many other fire wives pose some form of this concern as the leading question when breaking the ice with other fire wives. It’s like the women all want to know how the other wives cope with the worry on shift days or deal with the sinking feeling every time their volunteer’s tones drop. I’ve always felt sort of an outcast in this conversation because I simply don’t relate. It’s not that I feel we’re immortal. I’m just not big on worrying.
Whenever my husband is on shift, life goes on. Most days I put in more working hours as Mom than he does as Fireman and when the shift ends, I expect him to arrive home. I never expect him to go to work and end up in the hospital or to go to work and not return, even though I know this is a possibility. Mostly I expect him to go to work, keep a level head at all times, and make every move knowing that coming home to us is more important than saving a structure.
After having a bit of concern creep into my life today though, I can finally relate to the ladies who ask, “How can I stop worrying?” My suggestions are: Know your fireman and trust him; make him happy; and live life without letting regret taint your moods. If you regret not having a better time when you are together, you will always live in fear of being robbed of the best times. No doubts and no regrets.
