Grief

Today’s post has had several false starts.  It’s strange, I know I want to talk about Josie, but I don’t know which direction I want to take.

I thought about taking the position of, in the words of my cousin “the racist, right-winged nut-job” but that’s not me.  Yes, I’m frustrated that Roman is in the country illegally, and that he had been previously deported back to Mexico.  But at the same time, I know that most Hispanics, even most illegal aliens are law-abiding (for the most part) and aren’t looking for any trouble.

I did want to mention that after my sister posted on Facebook that she was “Sad, and needs cheering up” I decided I was sad and needed cheering up too, so I made my yearly stop at the Krispy Kreme (yes, I only go there about once a year, despite it being the closest place to my house to buy food) because sweet carbohydrates make me less sad, and headed up to her house.

My sister lives about 40 miles away from me. A fair distance, but close enough that we see each other quite frequently.  The thing is, that on the drive to her house, I usually see (or notice, maybe) one or two cops.  Yesterday, I saw more than a dozen, all with lights flashing, most with someone pulled over.  I don’t know how much it had to do with Josie, but I realized that the law enforcement community must be hurting, too.  I also noticed the “racist, right-winged nut-job” coming out in me, as I was looking at the other drivers, and panicked a little bit when I saw two Hispanic men in a car together.  Never mind that the car in question was a gray Datsun hatchback–about as far away from an orange Corvette as you could get and still have a vehicle.

Part of me wanted to take the wildly-inappropriate humor route, and say something along the lines of “It’s not every day that a tragedy in your home develops a twist that would be considered too cheesy for a Lifetime movie.” If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check out this KSL report.

The thing is, even though I didn’t really know Josie, I know many of the supporting members of this drama (man, that sounds cold). Sgt. Kimball is my parent’s next door neighbor.  I know her mother, some of her siblings (but not Ryan), her aunts and uncles and cousins.  My dad has worked with Josie closely, in his capacity as an EMT,  and I think what he said on Facebook sums things up nicely:

This has affected me more than any other thing I have faced as an EMT, even the death of a child. Part of it is that we were both part of the “family” of emergency services, but the fact that it was not an accident, but a deliberate taking of life of someone that I knew and worked with.

I am not a member of the family of emergency services that Dad talks about, but I think this explains why I’m feeling the way that I am.  Josie was doing her job.  And yes, being a cop is dangerous anywhere, even, apparently, in a county with less than 13,000 people, but her death was so unexpected.

When I was out with the dogs this morning, I was trying to remember the last time I mourned like this, and the answer I came up with was 9/11.  Yes, I’ve lost friends and family members in the past decade, and have mourned the loss of public figures, including a prophet of God, but those deaths were caused by disease or accident, not a deliberate taking of life.

I spent a lot of time praying yesterday, praying for comfort for the Foxes and Greathouses.  Praying for healing in the community–both in Millard County and in the law enforcement/emergency service community.  I’ve come to a place where, I’m still sad, but I feel at peace.  I can’t explain why things have unfolded the way they have, but I trust in a higher power that everything will be made right.

Goodbye, Deputy Greathouse-Fox.  You were a hero, and an example.  Your sacrifice will not be soon forgotten.  Delta, and the world, was a better place because of you.

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