As you drop to your knees and begin to weep, a feeling of emptiness washes over me. A black hole opens, and I hear waves from the ocean crashing. For a few moments I stand in silence as I watch you experience the worst day of your life. I am a failure and a scapegoat as the barer of bad news. You and your son will forever remember my face and my words “I’m sorry, we did everything we could.” My effort to offer you comfort won’t touch your suffering. Today, I will feel resentment for twenty years of human suffering and bad news as I come face to face with a stone wall. My emotions.

The tears of two young boys and a mother is more than anyone can bare. In silence we pack our equipment and leave your home knowing we worked that code far beyond protocol hoping and waiting for a miracle that never came. Your home was filled with blank faces and silence as we emotionally disconnected from a painful experience. This is isn’t normal. This work is not normal. There is no normal. Heroism is mocking us as we silently drive away and never speak about this again.