The Last Alarm: The Diary of a Daughter

PART-ONE

There’s not much in someone’s life that you can fully feel that type of security at its finest. Once you achieve this type of security you never want to get out of it again. You become so encompassed in the thought of having that for the rest of your life and then you’re hit with a blow that will change your life completely.
I remember when it happened. Most would’ve just blocked it out of their memory completely. Not me, that was not the way I was raised, I was taught to suck it up and deal with the consequences. No matter how hard I wanted to push this out of my memory, put all the hurt behind me, leave the old me behind. In a sense I did. He helped me with everything. This was our journey and no one else’s. I was privileged about the fact that I could talk about someone in such a way that would make me happy and sad at the same time.
I recall the day it happened as if it was yesterday, when in fact; it was nearly a year ago. Time flies when you’re life changes. I got up late that day, because, of course I didn’t want to go to work. I worked at a stupid place doing a job that I disliked. But I remember instantly how it felt when I found out the news. I had been taken away from my job and told that someone was downstairs to speak to me. I didn’t know what to do. The first thing that came to mind was “shit, am I about to get fired.., dad is going to flip his lid” Boy was I wrong. I walked into the calmly lit room with the fans going like it was the middle of august. It was the tenth of July to be more specific. I walked in the room and a person in the corner of the room immediately caught my eye. I don’t know if it was the uniform or it was the thin line of florescent on his jacket that caught my eye. I knew him, well not me specifically; it was as it was for my entire life. Knowing people through the relationships my parents held with them. He worked with my Dad at the station on the other side of town. My mother worked with him for several years prior to or post my birth. He was here to deliver not so great news.
That was an understatement. After the thought of possibly getting arrested for something at the time that I couldn’t think of, I was instantly scared of what was coming up next. He motioned towards the rolling computer chair that was one of 4 at the table. I passed up the one that was directly beside him that he was motioning towards and instantly went on the opposite side of the table. I don’t know if it was my defence mechanisms kicking in but whatever it was I wasn’t about to like what I was going to hear. At that moment I heard the words that will forever wring through my ears, “I’m Sorry”. I’ve never hated a group of words with so much passion that I would instantly cry just thinking about people saying them to me. The officer continued what he was saying but all I was catching was half words and sentences. He mentioned that he was on his way to the fire station, although to the reporters trying to find a story was on the way to the hospital. I didn’t know what to think in the moment. I had lost the one person that I had grown so close with and the last conversation we had was about me screwing up at school. I felt like a complete idiot. How was I supposed to be my daddy’s baby girl if I didn’t have a daddy anymore? The thought of going on without him had never crossed my mind until now and I wasn’t ready for what was about to happen.
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I think that it was when I was a little younger that this particular incident had happened with my father and I. Being the little angel that I was I was constantly hanging out with boys which worried my father from the very beginning. I was hanging out with a friend of mine that was a family friend. We were out in front of our neighbours yard behind some hedges trying to conceal our identity connecting us to the acts that were about to go down. We thought that it would be a great idea to throw some rocks over the hedges, terrible life choice in my opinion, but we did it anyway. I just remember winding up my arm and then hearing the rock connect with the car before I was off and running for my life, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I ran over to my house in hopes that my father hadn’t seen a thing and I could act like nothing happened. No such luck.
Tailing me up the driveway was the very angry driver of the blue civic that I had hit with my excellently collected rocks. I could see it in my father’s eyes, as I was running up the hill. He knew that I didn’t man to do it and this man was trying to grab a hold of me and bring me back to look at it. I was around 10. Terrified about the situation. There was no way I could get out of this one.
Then I saw it, you know those early morning discovery channel shows they have about the parental patterns of animals. You sit there in hopes of seeing something intense you can talk about with your friends the following day. Anyways, I saw the fury fill my father’s eyes and cut in the middle of the man and I. He ended up talking the man down but also showing him that he wasn’t going to back down and I was his daughter and there was no messing around with me. This was the first time that I had seen my father actually get angry at someone else at my expense. I started getting immense amounts of pride at that moment, which continued for several years.
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I started to slide all of my things into my locker. I was just given the biggest shock of life and I wanted to get changed out of my dirty work clothes before I had to see my entire family. There was something wrong with this picture. Regardless, I got my things together and stepped outside into the warm sunlight of that July morning. It was beautiful out, but everything was continuing. I was confused, why wasn’t everything stopping? I should have repeated this about 4 hours later and I would have been asking a completely different question.
I slumped into the passenger seat of the police car that was taking me home. Why did he constantly have to keep asking me fucking questions? It’s not like I was legit answering them with full answers. It was understandable though, I had just lost my father, and he was just the bearer of bad news.
I remember looking at the house when we pulled up, I lived in the same house since I was born and for some reason at that exact moment I couldn’t seem to look at it the same way that I did when I pulled away from it this morning with dad. Nothing to me seemed real. I was dreading the next 30 steps. I walked in my back door and the first person that I saw was my mother. I couldn’t even really breathe. How do you react to someone that has just lost her husband? I just remember sitting in my mothers’ arms and her being the strongest person that I’ve ever seen in my entire life. She had so much that she had to do now that my father was gone but I’ve never witnessed anyone in my entire life as strong as she was.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the firefighters started to show up and things were getting really emotional because I’ve known like all of these guys since I was born and just broke down at the sight of them which hurt. It hurt me to no end that I felt guilt towards them; they were taking it so hard.
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Being a firefighters daughter definitely has some perks. You get to go and walk into the station like you own the place. But other then the perks that it seemed to have, there were many a downfall. When I turned 19, I didn’t want to spend it in Saint John, just to be sure nothing happened. Fire fighters seemed to have a little problem with what was it called? “Protecting their own” I think the term was. Regardless, I thought that I was going to be having a wonderful night in Fredericton with all of my friends. Negative.
I hadn’t even walked in the bar and was already being harassed by some half-drunk idiot hitting on me.