There have been times in my life in which others have accused me of being “too trusting.” To be fair, the accusers weren’t all that far off with their finger-wagging; I am a very trusting person. Sometimes it works to my benefit, sometimes to my demise. But I simply am a trusting person.
I have grown over the years and through life experiences and interactions with others I have toned it down, pulled it back a bit. I am more discerning with people and opportunities. I am not quick to trust if you want me to invest money, but I may hear you out before — politely — telling you no. I do reserve some mistrust for the adoption industry as a whole, but even then I have this positive place inside where I believe that the work being done by groups like Ethica will someday make a difference and influence ethical reform. But, yes, I’m still a trusting person.
I kind of have to be. I am married to a firefighter.
When he kisses me on the head in the morning, heading off to another twenty-four hour shift, I have to trust that twenty-four hours later he is going to come home, pour himself a cup of coffee and sit in his recliner for an hour or so as he gets his Family Legs back. I have to trust that when I hear the scanner start to go crazy, his fellow firefighters will have his back and he’ll call me later in the evening. I have to trust when I hear a fire truck whiz by that my husband’s training and know-how will guide him through the proper ways to do his job. I have to trust that he’ll come home.
That’s a lot of trust expected out of one human being. Maybe that’s why I am how I am and I married who I did and we are where we are and who we are. I believe that my ability to trust so easily keeps me sane on the hardest of days.
I wonder then how our boys will be as they continue to grow. As of right now, they don’t yet “get” that firefighters can die. They know they can get hurt, but death is not something that has yet been questioned or brought up, though we’ve read books like Fireboat and September Roses. They’ve never put it together that their father could die in a fire. I prefer that — for now. But when they do find out, will the fact that we are just supposed to trust that he will come home cause them to trust easily in other areas of their lives? And is that a good thing or something to work against? I don’t know the answers.
I do know that as I step from tonight into tomorrow, I’m trusting that the changes I’m making in my life are going to be for the best. For more on that, tune in tomorrow. But for now, I am taking comfort in the fact that I am a trusting person.
And comfort in these guys…
Door open, move forward. Oh, and breathe.