Revelations, and Pride In My Child

A couple of months ago, I was chatting with my daughter, Brenda. She somehow revealed that, years ago, when she was a single mother, working part time and going to school, money was tight.

I had kinda known that.

Just HOW tight, I evidently had not appreciated. She revealed that several times, she had gone to bed without supper, in order that her child could eat.

Let’s consider that, for a moment. It certainly elicits mixed feelings in me.

Foremost, pride. My daughter is professional, committed, and decisive. Her revelation reveals outstanding triage skills, as well as monumental commitment to her child.

Secondly, frustration. It is not as if I could not/would not remedy her pantry problems. Hell, I have been an overtime working fool nearly all my life, and another day of OT, in order to feed my child and grandchild, well, I suspect “BFD!” communicates my feelings adequately. (that is “big freaking deal”, although the second word generally refers to certain ancient and generally highly regarded fertility rites…).

Thirdly, frustration. (again). It is not as if I do not buy groceries, to this day, just as if I were still feeding four hungry adolescents. That both provides me with plentiful left-overs for my meals at work, as well as abundant food-in-waiting. The only thing stopping me from a pantry filling visit to my child, is her failing to tell me such might be useful.

Finally, it reinforces my appraisal of my child, that she is A WOMAN, and, like her mother, knows not of this “back down”, you might speak of, with regard to her children. Formidable, competent, decisive.

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Family Business

My daughter, let us call her Brenda, got married a couple of weeks ago. She has found a man who is made of righteous stuff, who complements her, and fathers (dad-s?) her children.

Since I am a step father, I respect men who step whole heartedly into the role of fatherhood, even if ready-made fatherhood. This man is such a man.

So, several insights occurred to me over the past couple of weeks.

First off, without The Plaintiff, I would not have this wonderful woman, who calls me “Dad”, in my life. For all The Plaintiff’s (and my, to be honest) imperfections and shortcomings, if she had not married me, there would be a Brenda sized hole in my life.

So, as the Father of the Bride, when asked, “Who gives this woman?”, I replied, “Her mother and I”.

Secondly, this amazing woman put herself through college, as well as grad school, working full time, and mothering what would turn out to be 4 children. Proud Poppa moment, right there.

I took the chance to tell her how proud I am of her, and in so many ways that she has earned that pride.

When she responded, “Thank you, Daddy”, well I nearly melted. I had told her how meaningful that Christmas powerpoint was to me, how, even now, it moves me to tears.

So, of course, the Father-Bride dance was to, “He Didn’t Have to Be”, by Brad Paisley.

Thirdly, The Darling Wife-Mark II is an unequivocal blessing to me, in my life. TDW labored to make the decorations, to make everything at this wedding Just Nice. Brenda nearly gushed over the wedding decorations, multiple guests made a point of approaching TDW, and complimenting her over how well her efforts had turned out.

The Heinlein Rule

Perhaps, I ought to initiate another tag, “The Heinlein Rule”. As Heinlein said, “Take a look around you. There never were enough bosses to check up on all that work. From Independence Hall to the Grand Coulee Dam, these things were built level and square by craftsmen who were honest in their bones.” (https://thisibelieve.org/essay/16630/)

I have spoken of Eloise in another post, as well as one particularly heads-up MA and how each of them, professional in their bones, acted on their own initiative and decisively to protect patients.

So, one day, TINS©, TIWFDASL©, when the registrar meandered back to the nurses’ station.

She opened her conversation, “Just checking. This woman reports that she is bleeding, and 3 days out from her delivery. You *DO* want her to go to emergency, right?”

Before I could contribute anything, my MA asked, “Does she look dizzy, or pale? Did she walk straight? Anything else going on?”

The registrar replied, “She looks pink, not sweaty, walked straight, no other complaints when I asked about any.”

My MA stated, “Please direct her to emergency.”

The registrar looked at me. I stated, “What she said. Does she have transport?”

“Yep, She is here with some family member.”

“Outstanding. She should be on her way, please.”

The Lord blesses me with partners who play “Heads UP!” ball.

Proud Poppa Moment

Thank you, ERJ, for the inspiration for another blog post. One of your commenters to your post about the fiscal consequences of “kicking the (payroll and benefits) can down the road”, and the implications of same for actually MAINTAINING a given level of government/police/fire/EMS services, presented the following:

“I suspect another reason for services eroding is lack of employees.
I know that many police departments have openings for lack of qualified candidates, as do many county agencies. Whether their qualification requirements are reasonable is another question. I know that some places intentionally understaff so that existing staff can easily justify overtime, occasionally to a ridiculous degree.”

This ties in, very neatly, to a conversation I had with The Darling Daughter the other weekend. She was talking to somebody with whom she works, this somebody being involved in some manner with providing EMS services. This Somebody (hereinafter referred to as “TS”) was sharing with her the difficulty of obtaining personnel to staff ambulances, in the numbers required to provide ambulances, 24/7/365/surge capacity in the event if BFD emergency.

The Darling Daughter (to be referenced as “TDD”) pointed out that she spent her childhood in the household of a medic, and noted to her correspondent that “You DO know, that McDonalds is paying more than you are, right?”

That elicited an observation about insurance company reimbursement for ambulance transport (TL:DR: meager), and the difficulties that provides in paying personnel more.

TDD noted that for mothers who might contemplate a career Fighting Disease, And Saving Lives, child care, and in particular child care after 5 pm, is AN ISSUE.

Her correspondent, TS, was reported to have metaphorically waved his hands, responding “I KNEW you were going to bring up child care!”

I agreed with TDD, noting that should a crew pick up a transfer to, say Ann Arbor at something like 3 pm, (the drive alone is on the order of 90 minutes, one way, from, oh, let’s pick a town at random: Eaton Rapids, and Sparrow Eaton Hospital. Not mentioned is unload time, as well as the drive back, restocking the rig, and tootling home.), then Our Heroine is looking at being, maybe, in the parking lot of University of Michigan Medical Center, heading home if she is fortunate, just about the time that her day care provider is beginning to blow up her phone with warnings of five-dollar-a-MINUTE late charges for EACH of her children, now that she is late.

At a pay that compares, sort of, with minimum wage.

So, hell YEAH, child care is an issue.

She (TDD) then noted to TS, that there does not appear to be any sort of career ladder for EMS. So far as she knew, it went something like

Basic EMT–>Paramedic–>Do Something Else.

She relates that this sort of issue might adversely affect retention. Which will, as a readily foreseeable follow on effect, “thin the herd” of individuals entering that pipeline. Leading to just this conversation.

Another Proud Poppa Moment!

Loss, helping me appreciate what I have.

Eaton Rapids Joe of the eponymous blog, had a link to, in effect, a video eulogy. The gentleman producing the video blog reported that, last weekend, he and his “Beautiful Wife” had gone to bed, just like a thousand other times, except that only he awakened.

In the course of his remembrances, he tears up, and APOLOGIZES! for doing so.

I commented: “Sir, please do NOT apologize for your tears. Be the genuine, grieving man that you are. And, thank you for the reminder of simply how important my own “Beautiful Wife” is, to me. The simple things are truly the most important.”

My own “Darling Wife-Mark II” (improved version!) did not change my life as dramatically as this gentleman credits his Beautiful Wife with doing, but she did teach me that I could love again, and that even my cynicism required some limits.

Presently she is toiling away, making decorations for my daughter’s wedding. She has devoted uncounted hours to this, creating place settings, hunting down this or that item, in an unstinting effort to make my daughter’s wedding beautiful.

And, to be plain, my daughter is my “step-daughter”. So, the woman she is losing sleep over, whose wedding she is working ever so hard to make just nice, is her step-step-daughter.

That is the sort of quality human being that has graced my life, has been my wife for ten years this autumn.

I will take the time, today, to try to be certain that she understands how she has affirmatively changed my life for the better.

An effort that, if I have a lick of sense, I will repeat daily until the end of time.