The final heartbeat

Continued....

It was a Thursday morning 5/2/13,
I slept at the hospital alongside my siblings the night before.
We knew it would be the last time we would be four.

We sat around and waited for doctors to tell us it was time...
It felt like the clock was frozen in time.
There was not much talking going on.
We waited for family to come say goodbye,
Yet it still did not seem real.

They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days.

I wanted to be with him.
I could not let him be alone.
Everyone said there goodbyes,
and went to the waiting room.
I stayed.

I took his hand.
I told him I loved him.
I told him I would never give up finding out what happened.
I kissed his forehead,
I told him he was a hero.
I put my fingers on his wrist,
I felt his pulse.

They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days.

I held his hand...
Tight, my knuckles were white.
I felt his last heartbeat....
and yet a part of it still did not seem real.
I fell apart.
For the first time in eight days, I fell apart.

They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days,
It was not...
It was eleven minutes.

As I walked out of his room,
I wiped my tears.
I went to tell them-
He was gone.

We packed up,
It was time to leave.
We had made it our place,
For eight days, it was where we sat.
For eight days, it was our place of hope.
I went along as they moved him out.
An American flag draped over him.

Within a few hours,
I walked in to the firehouse.
All was draped in black....
There were lot of tears, news cameras...
Obituaries to be written-
Yet, A part of it did not seem real.
Two years later, A part of it still doesn't.

RIP my hero!

FF Gene Kirchner
LODD 5/2/2013

Two years later

Two years ago seems like yesterday- this scene has run through my mind endlessly for the past two years- my night's sleep are like reruns, often interrupted, and never restful....






April 23rd, 2013.... I had coached a game. We played Urbana at home and beat them 17-4. I left the stadium, walked in the office to call in scores and went home as usual.


I was tired.. decided not to pack my lunch or lay out clothes for the next day. I figured I would wake up a little earlier and have time to do that in the morning.




I climbed into bed for a good night's rest-


A little after 1 a.m. my cell phone, which I never hear at night, began to go off. Confused, I assumed it was my alarm. I quickly realized it was the phone and that my brother, Will, was calling. I answered in a panic, thinking something was wrong. Anticipating Mom was having trouble breathing... he began by saying that Gene was at the hospital.. he was on a fire... and burned his hands.


I remember my heart beat slowing and a calmness came about. Nothing was serious! A burn.. that is nothing. He said he was at Northwest, not even a burn center. I asked if he really needed me to come... anticipating a minor burn... and that he would be done before I got there. He said yes... when I questioned why.. asking why he was going to Northwest if the burn was bed... he responded with just come. I started getting ready, still anticipating nothing could be that bad.


A few minutes went by and he called back... we are going to Shock Trauma.. come there. I questioned why there? if its a burn tell them to take him to the burn center... I was not sure how he would respond but did not anticipate the words that followed... "He is in cardiac arrest."


Heart rate speeding, panic set in, I hung up and woke up Jim. I don't remember what I said but I got ready fast.. all the while trying to call my sister. No answer.. I called and called and called.


Jim and I headed out... and Will called back.. this time to tell me I need to go tell Mom.


My heart stopped.. or so it felt.


The drive seemed forever long... and I could not come up with what to say. I got out and knocked on the door. I could hear her running down the steps... she opened the door in a panic... looked up saw Jim and I and said whats wrong? where is Noa? I calmly said Gene was hurt on a fire and that we needed to go to the hospital. She asked hurt how? I said he burned his hands... I stayed calm.. the whole way there she asked how he was hurt and I just kept repeating "he burned his hands."


Jim was going as fast as he could... I was still trying to reach April, no luck


I was texting Will the whole time giving him updates on how close we were.. have someone ready for Mom I said....


We pulled up to a scene from a movie.. lights, firefighters, chiefs... as soon as the doors open, Will greeted us. My mom fell apart.. she could tell something was really wrong.


I wanted to see Gene but we had to wait..


Lots of people I did not know were gathered in a room... finally, they let us go up.


We walked in to the TRU and Gene was laying on a cot lifeless, hooked onto many tubes... an officer sat to his right and Chief Hohman in front of his bed.


I wanted to scream, cry, yell, break down... but I stayed strong. Mom had not been told about the cardiac arrest-


The next few hours were the waiting game.. we gathered in a waiting room as they ran tests and moved Gene to the 5th floor.


To be continued....






This is what fills my mind so vividly when I go back to 4/23/13- I can hear the sounds, smell the scent, and recall almost every detail-


Life will never be the same as that day. That day was so normal- and ended so differently.. so scary... so life changing.
These next 8 days will be challenging... they bring up such raw emotions, such heartache, and so much reality-


Hoping for a good night's rest tonight-

The 2nd

The 2nd of any month just seems to be different than other dates.
I am less settled, less patient, and frazzled.
I don't realize sometimes that it's even the 2nd-
and then as I try and figure out why my day is going the way it is,
I glance at the calendar,
I realize it's the 2nd,
A date that just can't seem to get better.
All of the sudden I find my mind wondering back,
to the call, to the words, to the goodbye.
My mind is racing with flashbacks of 8 of the toughest days of my life,
and to memories of everything we shared.


22 months ago-
I still don't understand why or how?
I grow sadder and angrier as the second of each month passes.
 For a minute I just want to go back…
I just want to go back to life before April 24th, 2013

The Gene size hole in my heart continues to grow...
As time on the calendar continues to move on.

For those who ask or those who want to, but don't know how.
For those who wonder how we are doing-
We are broken,
We will always be.
We are here,
but not as fully as we were before.
We are living,
but we live with a huge hole.
We smile,
Simply to hide the pain.
For those who continue to say " you are so strong,"
I am not, I am falling apart inside day in and day out.


Missing you-

18 months later

I have not written on here in a while..
rather the words have been spinning in my mind.
Many believe that "we should move on, "
They don't understand the pain that comes with that.

Since my last post, we have had more ceremonies to honor you,
Have celebrated more birthdays and holidays,
We have cried and smiled,
But have come no where closer to the answers we continue to be in search of.

It's been our biggest challenge, the hardest fact to digest.
"We may never know;" words hard to hear.
Will it bring us closer, I don't know.
Will it bring further hurt, I am not sure.
Will it make sense, likely not...
but I still yearn to know what happened to you that night.

Thanksgiving eve, listing all that I am thankful for,
Yet, a part still thankless for this dark cloud in my life.
I am reminded by no other than Dr. Seuss...
to not "cry because it's over,.. but... smile because it happened.”
I focus on what we had, but can't let go of what would have been.

As time passes, wounds don't heal,
We just learn the "new normal" is with what we have to learn to deal.
Less tears for sure,
but with that comes a price...
I could tell you all of the lasts we shared.. but as time passes, they become a fog.
I recall your words, but not your voice.
I recall your look, but not your smell.
I remember our last phone conversation, but not every word.
Time takes parts away,
Time makes things harder, too.

I am thankful for the memories we shared,
the smiles, the tears, the  "real" that our life was.
I miss your silly looks, your stubborn personality,
your hugs, and your being.

I am thankful for the people you have placed in my life,
for the reminders you send to let me know that you are near,
and for the love of a little brother that you thought me about.

The holidays are so hard, no matter how much time has passed.
It's meant to be shared with family,
For us, the table is always missing one.

April 24th... A year later

I remember the day as if it was yesterday, but yet I feel like years have passed.
I had coached a lacrosse game and came home tired. I did not lay out clothes as I usually do. I did not pack a lunch, or  have a practice plan ready for the next day.
I remember being exhausted and lying in bed. As I fell asleep, my mind was filled with day to day thoughts. I had a list of things I had to do when morning came. (little did I know what the morning would hold).

It was a little after 1 am when my thoughts changed to fears, as I received a phone call, a phone call that still replays in my mind today.
I never hear my phone when I sleep, but that night I did.
I remember my questions as I tried to piece everything together. (are you sure you need me to come there? how silly a question that was).
The anger when I heard burn and Northwest (why not a burn center is all I could think).
The fear when I heard "cardiac arrest." (I knew what that meant)
The worry as I headed down the road to tell Mom. (What would I say? I did not know until I got there and still not sure how I kept a straight face as I told her that her baby was hurt)
I remember the faith I so wanted to have, that all would be okay.
The tears I soaked inside, as I stood strong for all those around me.
I recall the hours and days that passed.
Watching my brother fight... and trying to hold on to faith that we would be whole again.


365 days ago, we started on a journey. A journey that continues to be a struggle.
365 days ago, our hero Gene, made a choice to put someone else's life ahead of his own.
365 days since the fire that claimed his life.
It was the last time he was the Gene we all knew. The last time he don his cape and did what he loved.

I think about Gene everyday-
I miss him. I miss his smile, his squeezes, miss him wearing sunglasses indoors, the sibling fights that often ended in wrestling matches, and giving him a hard time like a big sister should.
I miss fighting over the last piece of cake at holidays or hearing him stump up the steps when he got mad at Mom.
I miss knowing he was there, a phone call away.
I think about Gene everyday-
Today, a year after this journey started, I hurt more, I fear more, and I am falling apart more than a year ago.

Count Down

Life is full of countdowns...
We count down each week to the weekend ahead, to paydays,
We count down to a new year, weddings, birthdays, and vacations.
We count down to retirement.
Usually, this time of year has me excited for the end of school year countdown.
Right now, the only countdown I can focus on, is the anniversary of the fire and of Gene's death.

11 days to the date of that fire... and 19 to the day that he died.
How quickly, yet slowly, a year has gone by.

Wishing there was a way to skip those day in the calendar,
to somehow make them disappear.

I don't know what those days will bring in terms of emotions,
but as they draw closer, I grow more anxious.

In between we count down to the release of the investigation report, the unveiling, the Shock Trauma Gala that will honor him, and Fallen Heroes Day...
As each of these events gets closer, my emotions change.
I am firing on all cylinders..
I am worried, but unsure of what.
I am angry, but unsure at whom.
I cry often, but unsure what brings it on.
I feel anxious, but unsure of why.
I am saddened, because in between all these dates are holidays, phone calls, hugs, texts, and visits that are missed.
I am part and not whole, because I have a Gene size hole in my heart, and it's growing larger as this countdown nears it's end.

It all comes back

I have been in the fire department for 17 years. Through that time, I have heard of many line of duty deaths. I attended funerals, sent condolences, and sympathized with departments, families, and other department personnel. It's different now. Now, when I hear about a line of duty death.... All of the raw  emotions come flooding back. An image immediately enters my mind and scenes start to flashback in my mind. I begin to think and replay that initial phone call, picture the ride to the hospital, get glimpses of the time spent at trauma, the funeral, the eulogy. Suddenly, I am reminded of every detail. Details I try so hard to block out. Somehow, I can't control it and for days following tragic news... Nothing can block them out.

I start to think about the family. I think about the support, and pray there is a lot. I start to think of what to say in a card. Should they know how hard the days ahead will be. Would it help prepare them? Before my own loss, I always said "time will heal and things will get better." I always wrote "I am sorry for your loss." Now, I avoid all of those words. I know they are not true, I know that "loss" is not the right word. I  am more careful at addressing the pain. Most times, I feel I am writing to myself. Over 50 firefighters and other public safety personnel have died since Gene. Over 50 have made the same ultimate sacrifice. When I think about that number, I am drowned by sorrow. 50 families.... 50 flashbacks of a difficult movie in my mind.

As these pictures, thoughts, and feelings flood my mind and heart, after the tragic event in Boston, I try and look for anything that would make it better. Nothing exists. Holidays, birthdays, everyday routines, all that will never be the same is on my mind. All of the sudden, I find myself crying. I find myself wishing for a rewind button. For me, for my brother, for our family, and for all the other families.

It's been 11 months since the fire... 11 months since I was whole. It's been 11 months since I could ever be a bystander or stranger in a line of duty death.

My thoughts and prayers are with Boston, with the families. Wishing that the painful journey is cushioned by support today and everyday. My wish is that this is the last LODD...