Tony

I think I've put this blog off for long enough.  I've been meaning to write on this topic since it happened, I guess I'm ready to deal with it.
A little piece of my heart is left in San Francisco, and will be there forever.  
My uncle Tony passed away on June 4.  He died doing what he loved, which was being a San Francisco fire fighter/paramedic.
I still don't know what went wrong, but a fire he was fighting went tragically awry and claimed his life and life of one of his fellow fire fighters, Lt. Vincent Perez.
Though he taught me so much while he was alive, he taught me so much more while he hung in there in a coma for two days and even when he passed.
I will never forget the phone call I received from my mom on Thursday, June 2.
It was a little after 1 p.m., and I had spent most of the day up to that point cleaning my desk.  Not willingly cleaning my desk, but that's a different story.
I usually freak out when my mom calls me between midnight and 7 a.m., so I wasn't expecting the subject and tone of her phone call that day, since it was such a normal time of day for her to call.
She was hysterical.  
Screaming.
Crying.
She told me to sit down.
I really thought my grandfather had passed.
She informed me that my Uncle Tony had been in a "bad fire" and was in ICU in San Francisco.
She barely could say anything else.  At one point I was yelling at her to calm down.  I didn't know what to do, so I told her I would do anything she needed, and she let me go.
I remember calling Lincoln's fire chief to see what I could do for my family.  I explained what happened, and he read an e-mail about a fire in SF.
He told me to just be there for them. 
I decided right then to get to my parents house before they left for the city, to be with them, because that's the only thing I knew to do.
I'm not a spontaneous person, so for me to just up and leave like that, not knowing when I'd be home, where I'd eat, where I'd sleep usually freaks me out, but not that day.
I called my husband at work, and briefly told him what was up and that I was leaving for San Francisco.
I abided by all traffic laws on the way to my house, crying, thinking about what to pack.
Brody was very confused by how quickly I flew through the house, gathered essential items: laptop, phone charger, sweatshirts, etc.
The drive that usually takes ten minutes from Lincoln to West Roseville took about five.
My mom seemed fine, we left.
I immediately took on role of little brother wrangler and regulator.
My dad took care of my mom.
We had to tell her to not log onto Facebook or news websites, because some of them were saying my uncle had passed.
When we got to the hospital, I told my family to not let on to the seven or eight news crews that were were family, or else they'd not leave us alone.
When we got to the fourth floor of San Francisco General, my grandparents and some aunts and uncles were there, as well as miscellaneous fire staff, including the SF Fire Chief.
We were so well taken care of, food-wise, shelter-wise and emotionally, by the fire department and police department.
For that Thursday night, Friday and half of Saturday, our base camp was the hospital, and we had a room for family and fire people.
We had food out the ass.
Bagels, bananas, apples, pizza, salad, donuts, Gatorade, chocolate, and lots, and lots of coffee.
There were a couple times our family was able to visit my uncle in ICU.
He sustained burns over 12% of his body, so he looked great, but his lungs were severely damaged after the flashover knocked him over, and at one point his heart had stopped.
I visited him twice.
The first time, my youngest brother and I went in.
It was tough.
My grandparents were in there, and they just looked shell-shocked.
My brother didn't really know what to do.
I talked to Tony.
I told him that it wasn't fair of him to leave us so soon.
I told him he had to survive, because he was in better physical shape than I am at 28.
I told him that we had just started to know each other as adults, and I wanted to keep that going.
I believe I also told him that the whole situation was fucking ridiculous, and that this wasn't supposed to happen.
I told him that our last phone conversation is the reason I'm a happier person, because we talked about being yourself and letting everything else fall into place.
I think that was Thursday.
I told him the same thing on Friday.
My family visited his fire station, Station 26 in Diamond Heights.
Our family was immediately embraced by his fire family, and I am so grateful to know his friends/family.
I'm so grateful for everything they did for us, and I'm happy we were there to support them to, because by allowing them to take care of us was therapeutic for them, I'm sure.
I'm very grateful for my Lincoln public safety friends, who were there for me when I called them at all hours of the night and day for support.
You know who you are.
On Saturday, the decision had to be made to let my uncle leave his earthly body.
The amount of blood pressure medication he was on, keeping him "alive," was not sustainable.
When he took his final breath, he was surrounded by both his genetic family and some members of his fire family.
We all said our goodbyes before he was taken off of life support, and most of us had a hand or finger on his body when he left.
I held onto his right foot.
I never want to see my grandparents cry again.
I never want to see my little brother or mom cry again.
I know that when he died, it wasn't goodbye forever, just for now.
But it still really sucks.
I bake bread now, and I can't ask him for tips and tricks.
I gave him some ciabatta I'd baked the last time I saw him, and I never found out what he thought about it.  I could have asked, but I assumed it would come up.
The shitty neighbors next door are gone, and that was a subject he was concerned about.
There's a for sale sign in the front yard next door, and I thought about what Tony would say when I told him new people could move in.
Can't do that.
I have some really good days, and I have some bad days. 
I would say today is a bad one.
I guess the biggest thing I've learned is that you can't really depend on tomorrow, you have to live today.
You need to tell those that you love that you love them, and those that you appreciate that you appreciate them.
Don't say no to trying new things, especially ones that scare you.
Grief does some messed up things to your family, and can bring out the best or worse in people.
Not everyone grieves the same way, and just because someone seems happy doesn't mean that they aren't sad.
It's sort of renewed my belief in God and Heaven.
I've met a few chaplains since he passed, one in SF and one in Vacaville, and I was comforted in their words, their prayers and the Bible passages they read.
I'm comforted by the idea that I might see Tony again one day.
I'm glad he made me laugh when he messed up the part of the funeral I was supposed to help with.
My cousin and I were supposed to bring the communion up to the altar, but someone had already done that.
I feel like he had a hand in that, just to remind me that he's looking over me and my family from his surfboard in heaven.
The funeral itself was amazing.
It started at 11 a.m. and wasn't over until 7 p.m., and that's not including the dinner that went until 10 p.m.
Fire companies from all over California came to the funeral and were included in a long, long procession.
My husband and I will always be grateful for our chauffeur to and from the city. 
The first few weeks after his death were definitely hard, but in a way there was a benefit, because it brought my immediate family and I closer together.
It was really nice to be with my little brothers 24/7 for awhile, because they are so much fun and are growing up great.
I think that's something Tony could be proud of.