BY E.M. FORTIER
Los Alamos

We are seeing a lot of fear based posts, written pieces, and television updates. I’m trying very hard not to feed into that because, the truth is, I’ve seen what fear does to people and it rarely is a positive result. 

So I want to tell you some things I’m grateful for, and I try to do it as much as I can in my daily life – through humor and love. Right this very minute I am so grateful for a friend’s suggestion to watch Brooklyn 99. It is hilarious and, even if you are like – “Meh, I saw it once . . . It isn’t anything to write home about”, one of the reasons I loved it today especially is because the plot line in the episode is that two detectives that work together are dating and it reminded me of when I worked with my husband. It reminded me of being young. It reminded me of working cases and bouncing ideas off of each other. It reminded me that we had some really awful cases, we saw some really awful things – things that change you, things that scare you, things that break you – but we found the greatest/most beautiful thing and that was us.

We found us and, from that, we found this life we are living. We got these crazy kids and these insane dogs and our lazy cat and the frog with the death wish who keeps jumping out of his tank and nearly being squished by the 2 year-old (ever-the-puppy) boxer who thinks it is awesome to play with a jumping slimy thing and we got our friends and our extended family . . . We got a life beautiful beyond what I could’ve imagined. 

And I think back to that day when I first sat across from him in this little restaurant downtown, a block from our office, and he couldn’t stop smiling at me; and I couldn’t figure out what I had done to make him amused and, as we walked back to the office, I wanted to hold his hand but I didn’t. And then, the same friend who told me to watch Brooklyn 99 all these years later was there too, in the office at the end of the second floor, looking out and watching her two friends that she set in motion toward one another. 

What matters most isn’t always what is most pressing – it is what is most lasting. Fourteen and a half years later and bad things have come and gone – things that knock the wind right out of you, that bring you to your knees – but in all those things, what I remember most is where I found hope and peace.