I was talking to a buddy of mine a few weeks ago. He and his wife, along with another couple of friends, were down at the house enjoying lunch and company.
We are both in the same line of work, sort of. The conversation turned to some of the worst scenes we’d ever been on. Not the most relaxing post-lunch chat – I get it – but we went where the conversation took us.
I mentioned a scene I was on a few years ago, which he happened to be on as well. When I brought it up, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the call where you and I started to get close.”
I’d never thought of that before, but it was the truth. I’d known him for a few years prior and talked to him a few times in passing, but this was one where we really worked together for the first time.
Over the last couple of years, he’s become one of my best friends. I’ll go on record as saying I’m one of his best friends too, whether it’s true or not. As far as I know, he doesn’t have a column with which to refute this claim, so you must take my word.
It just so happens that he and I worked closely on what would be – to date – my most mentally draining call as well. He’s been on scene with me for one of the most emotional calls I’ve ever worked, then a few years later, on one of the most mentally and physically taxing calls.
I didn’t think much more of my buddy’s statement at the time. We were enjoying a holiday lunch with friends and spouses, no matter how grim the conversation may have gotten there for a while.
But last night I talked to him on the phone, and toward the end of the conversation we started making plans for the next chance we get to hang out.
After the phone call ended, I remembered the call when we worked together for the first time.
Unfortunately, I think about it often. It’s not a good memory, but it’s one that is always up toward the front of my brain.
The solace I took last night, though, was that this scene I was on – the one that gave me images I’ll take to my grave – also gave me one of my best friends, and the friendship I have with his wife and parents. All friendships I treasure dearly.
There are dark clouds on this earth. Many more than I wish. But if you’re fortunate enough to find a silver lining in a cloud that’s over you, it makes the clouds seem a little less dark.
Good friends making good memories are the only way to get through life – at least, the way I see it. The dark clouds come no matter what, so let's be grateful for the silver linings they bring.
Toby Nix is a local writer, guitarist and investigator with the Coweta County Sheriff’s Office. He is the author of two books, “Columns I Wrote” and “A Book I Wrote.” He can be reached at email@example.com .