More Than Partners…

I have been extremely blessed to have some truly awesome partners.   Some of them were fantastic teachers.  Some of them pushed me out of my comfort zone and in their own way forced me to become a teacher.  Some of them were infinitely patient with me, including parking the ambulance from the passenger’s seat when I couldn’t grasp the concept of using your mirrors.  (I despise angled back-in parking in a crowded ambulance bay!)

Some of them were a combination of all of the above.

I want to tell you about one of the best partners I’ve ever had.

We worked together a relatively short period of time, just three and a half months.  But in that time, after three years of working in EMS, I finally figured out what it was to be true partners.  To have his back and know that he had mine, both at work  and off the job.  To know that what was said in the truck stayed in the truck.  To know that if either of us ever needed anything, anything at all, that the other person would walk through fire to be sure that it happened.  No matter what time of day or night.  We could truly count on each other.  We would argue, yes, but we also laughed, long and hard, and often.  We challenged each other at times, to be better at our jobs. I knew that anything I shared with him would go no further than him, and he knew the same.

We were more than partners, we were family.

A little over a year ago he went on his way.  A better job, working less hours and making more money.  I was sad that he was leaving me, but I could hardly fault him for it.  We never lost touch.  We still hang out from time to time, and we text each other frequently.  I still think of him as family, even if he’s no longer working in EMS with me.  He is one of my best friends.

It was a week ago tomorrow that I got the news that his Grandmother had died.  The following day I received a text message asking me to be a pall bearer at the funeral.  I instantly sent him a message back, “Yes.  Anything you need, I’m there.” And I meant it.  Every word.

The funeral was yesterday.  I made arrangements for my daughter and took the day off work.  I arrived early (for once), and  I even wore a dress.  (For the record, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve worn a dress in the last five years, but I digress.)

When I got out of my car I was shocked at the turnout;  I had been worried that there wouldn’t be enough pall bearers.  Now there were too many,  they wouldn’t need me.  Out of the seven pall bearers, six of them were EMS coworkers.  Former partners.  Family.  Keep in mind that these were all guys from the last service we worked at.  Neither of us have worked there for almost a year.  These were people who knew one thing and one thing only.  One of their own needed them.  And they stepped up. 

We’re more than just the people who sign each other’s run reports.  We’re more the coworkers.  We are partners.  We are friends.  We are family.  When you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.  When one of us hurts, we will do just about anything to help out.  When one of us is going down the wrong path, the rest of us will call for an intervention.  We’ll tell each other things that we know full well the other person does NOT want to hear, but in fact needs to hear.

That is an awesome thing.  And that speaks volumes.

And I know that I am honored to be a part of such a group. 

I am honored.