Memories

I have been doing my "dream job" for nearly just over 4 years now. To say it's affected me is...well, a bit of an understatement. For every good memory there are at least 2 bad ones. Just over a year ago I delivered a baby girl, on the floor of a Subway restaurant in a truckstop. I scraped brains from the highway, and then out the tread of my boots. I have help an old woman's hand as she cried for her dying husband. I have tackled a mother running to her garage to keep her from seeing us cut down her son who had hung himself. I have gone to what I thought was my wife in an accident. I have walked along railroad tracks looking for some poor bastard's leg who jumped off the train and hit a sign when he landed. I sometimes wonder how much the human mind and soul can take before all these things finally catch up with it. For every one thing I remember, there are at least 5 I forgot. I have been on more than 2,000 calls. The one thing that keeps me going is the thought of my family. My pretty little girl, my handsome boys, my beautiful, loving wife who has supported me through all my issues and horseshit. I owe all that I am to them. Everytime I go on a call I can see my boys smiling at me, and my little girl smiling
and I hear my Jess telling me to be careful. I really do try hard to be careful, I wouldn't want to disappoint them by not coming home.