The Flip Side

I'm up at 4:30 a.m. this morning. And I don't even have to work.

It's the day after Thanksgiving and I was hoping to sleep in, but here I am. Awake. Brewing coffee. Writing. I need to look at the flip side of this. You know, put it into perspective. Set aside how life affects me (can I?) and look at the big picture.

It's not in my nature to look at the big picture. I tend to look first at the small details, the small results, the space in my view and within my reach. It's not necessarily a bad thing. Others have the tendency to look at the big and neglect the small. Neglect what is right there, within reach. They run off and miss things. The trick no matter which type we are, I think, is to look at the flip side from time to time. It helps keep perspective.

For me it helps me step away from me and how this life, these events, these trials, affect me.

This morning (just before 4:30 a.m.), my husband's pager went off. Not for his 60-plus-hour-a-week job as the local postmaster. For his volunteer job as a local firefighter. There was smoke in a structure somewhere and when he heard the call for "all available" he popped out of bed and was gone in a flash. As I tried to drift back to sleep I immediately looked at the small. Me in bed alone. Me without an early morning hug from the one I love most in this world. Sigh. I couldn't get back to sleep.

Then, as time passed and I began contemplating coffee, another thought occurred to me. It was the fire. I wondered if it was a business. A home? The picture in my mind expanded and I looked at the flip side. The bigger side of this situation. Opposite of me alone in bed.

My husband losing much-needed sleep on yet another night. Gone.

My loss? Someone's gain.

If I were the one with the fire I'd want men like my husband. I'd want obnoxious pagers to wake a family early. I'd want people who haven't had their morning coffee, let alone adequate sleep, to get out of bed to come fight my fire.

Sleeping one minute and getting in a fire truck the next. Sleeping one minute and putting on a gas mask the next. Sleeping one minute and unrolling a giant hose the next. Not even thinking. Being part of the big picture, just jumping in as if they belong there.

Maybe a business will be saved. Maybe someone's precious photo albums in a home will be salvaged. Maybe lives will be spared. Please. At least the lives.

It's after 5:00 a.m. now. On my side, I am sitting in my warm living room with a cup of coffee. My dog on the couch. My kids sleeping in their beds. My house quiet and smoke-free.

On the flip side, my husband is out somewhere in the dark fighting a fire. Someone's business or home filled with smoke. Someone hoping. Someone praying.

I smile to think of him as part of the big picture. He always seems to be. It leaves me alone at times within my small picture, but I'm okay with that. I'll keep the coffee hot and make some toast.

Soon, I hope, he will be back on this side of life, where sleep is a luxury he can't always afford to take. After all, there are others out there. Others living on the flip side. He sees that. He sees that before he is needed. He's ready. He goes. I'm glad for that. I'm glad for people like him.

Another reason to be thankful. And it isn't even Thanksgiving anymore. Imagine.