Anyone can look up Timothy and see his story, his legacy. Anyone can watch videos and news reports… Read the articles written while New York was mourning. Anyone with a semi-decent memory who watched it live will remember the tragedy— how much it circulated… Even if all they remember now is his face on the TV.

But no one can look you up, Rescue Medic Andrews, and see how this tragedy effected you; how it changed you. No one, albeit maybe a few colleagues, knows how much this impacted your day-to-day and career choices. You told me everything… I assume, maybe, this was also one thing you also shared with your therapist.

My point is… While I was always the “cool girlfriend” excited to hear sick-call stories, the venting about skells and cancellations, and even enjoyed the smell of smoke that stuck to your clothing… I always worried about you. Listening to your stories (the few you’d tell) and reading about First Responder Trauma… That had a lasting effect on me and how I view things. I worried about you every day for so many reasons. And now that you let me go…

Who worries about you now? And… Is it okay if it’s still me?

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