All I know is that I have rarely seen my son this happy.
Rios Fire Station is at the end of Main Street. Inside the firehouse, four men stand around one of the fire trucks. Two blond men—one familiar, the other with enough of a resemblance to be Joel’s brother—rise from their seats at a long wooden table in the kitchen.
The second Ben sees Joel striding toward us, Ben’s excitement can no longer be contained. He rips his hand from mine and sprints at Joel, who grins, bending to catch him and lift him. “Joel!”
Joel beams at him. “Ready to be a firefighter?”
“YES!” Ben shouts as I grin, slipping my phone from my cross-body bag and snapping a picture.
Joel turns to the men near the firetruck, shouting out, “The newest member of our team is here. Get over here and say hi.” He turns to Ben and whispers loudly. “You get a helmet to wear today.”
I can’t remember the last time I saw Ben this excited. Not even Christmas morning when he got a new bike comes close.
The men approach, and Joel points to each one. “That’s Dylan. My brother Noah. Then you have Callum, Silas, and Oscar. Everyone, this is Ben and his mom, Rose.”
They greet Ben with wide smiles and fist bumps, their welcome so warm and genuine that I know it’s not just pretend.
Joel turns to me with Ben still in his arms. “Is it okay to show Ben the truck? He won’t be out of my sight. I’ll show him what the truck can do and some of the equipment we use to fight fires.”
“That’s fine.” I lift my phone. “Can I take pictures?”
“Snap away. One last important thing.” Joel snags a bright yellow helmet with an eye shield from the man with shaved hair and plonks it on Ben’s head. It slips, but Joel readjusts it before it can fall.
Ben beams at me. “I’m a firefighter, Mommy.”
Suddenly tearful, I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, you are.”
Joel shifts his attention back to Ben and says casually. “While we show you around, we might need to rush off. Doesn’t mean anything is wrong. Just means you get to stay with Mom and that someone needs our help.”
Ben grips his shirt. “Can I come help them too?”
My heart literally hurts at his small-voiced offer to help.
Joel shakes his head. “Not this time, buddy. We have to do a lot of training before we can use this equipment, or we’ll hurt ourselves or each other. One day, when you’re a little bigger, ifyou still want to be a firefighter, you can.” He looks at me, as if to make sure he hasn’t said anything he wasn’t supposed to.
I smile at him. His tone was perfect, and so were his words. Ben could hurt himself by thinking he’s doing something helpful, and he has to know that being a firefighter is more than just putting on a helmet and riding a fire truck.
Joel bounces him in his arms. “So, are you ready to see this fire truck?”
“Yeah!” Ben yells.
The next thirty minutes are probably the happiest of Ben’s life.
Joel and the rest of the firefighters show him the truck and equipment safely and make sure he doesn’t touch anything that could hurt him. He wears a helmet, and his eyes are wide as he takes in the sights and sounds of a firehouse. To Ben’s utter devastation, there’s no pole he gets to slide down. Since this fire station is small, all living and work quarters are on one level.
Me? I fill my phone with a truly shocking number of photographs of Ben’s perfect day and have absolutely no regrets about doing so.
Joel told Ben that the firehouse is called a house because it’s a home away from home, and the men are a work family. There’s a room with camp beds for naps during long shifts, a bathroom and shower room, and a kitchen where they take turns cooking. Ben is told about, but not shown, a storage room where they keep most of their gear and an office, which we can still peek into through a large glass wall that reveals a wooden desk, an office chair, and silver filing cabinets.
As our visit winds down, I snap yet more pictures of Ben sitting with the men at the big table where they eat their meals. He’s wearing a small yellow plastic firefighter’s helmet and is being overwhelmed—and delighted—with all the stickers and a firefighter sticker book that he gets to take home.
“Cute kid,” a male voice says from my right.
“I think so,” I say, turning to Noah, Joel’s older brother and the fire chief. I’d lost sight of him during Ben’s visit. He was probably in his office. “I honestly thought he would die of excitement before today.”
Noah chuckles. “He wouldn’t be the first. We have classes from the elementary school visit, and we have to keep the numberslow. No more than fifteen kids or we’d have no way to keep all that excitement in check.”
I grin at him. “I cannot imagine what that would be like.”
