Song of the Post: Gifts and Curses by Yellowcard
I see your face with every punch I take,
and every bone I break, it’s all for you.
And my worst pains are words I cannot say,
still I will always fight on for you.
Just sitting here, thinking about the three Pittsburgh police officers who recently gave their lives. In 1995, three Pittsburgh firefighters who died at the Brycelin Street fire on Valentine’s Day.
Once, I was one of them, a City paramedic. I did it for over 11 years. I got out before the damage to my body was too great. My friends seem to think I stayed too long, not getting out before there was permanent damage to my soul. But I got out alive.
Strange thing, that. It feels weird. I lived and others didn’t. I’m not sure why. It could have been me. Maybe it should have been.
But it wasn’t. I’m still here.
Now what?
