A True Hero

I'm not one, not a hero. Not yet, at least. Maybe I have done a few heroic things, I don't know. It's not a definitive thing to be a hero; it depends on a lot of things at the time. You only really know someone is a hero when it happens or after the fact. Sometimes, it is an instinct, to run into danger and knowingly risk your own life to help or save others. That's what it means to be a true hero: knowingly risking it all to do some good.

My father had that instinct. I saw it in the things he did. He was raised in a different time and he wanted me to be safe. He didn't want me to join the military or a police force, despite our family history. And he made me promise I would never get on a motorcycle, citing an incident he witnessed long ago, a tragic loss of his own friend. Service is a different type of heroism, a different type of sacrifice.

People who do this for recognition or selfish reasons aren't being heroic, either. Not really. Being a hero is deeper than just doing something, not the same as or as simple as flipping a switch. What you do, the action may in fact be as simple as flipping a switch. But it still holds in that dedication, the same hope and knowing willingness, the conscious choice to do something to help others even though it puts you at risk.

It takes a lot of courage. I wanted to know that courage, so I did, briefly, put myself on the 'front lines'. I will not disclose my meager form of 'service;' suffice to say it wasn't in any direct danger other than COVID-19 and the other dangers most people face. Perhaps I'm even wrong in categorizing it as such, but it was a risk I knowingly took to help others. It was a taste, perhaps, of heroism, a taste of courage.

In making such a decision, you do feel alive. To be there, surrounded by others making the same choice does feel good. There's a sense of brotherhood, maybe. It was the smallest of tastes, but it remains on the tongue for quite some time. With the understanding of my employer, I returned to self-imposed quarantine after a couple of days on the 'front lines.' It's not something I took lightly, nor do I pretend I am as brave as those who chose to remain.

I did this to help my growth as a writer. It was a good experience. If nothing else, I know understand the disparity between a single act of bravery and being a hero.

Make no mistake, there are heroes in our world. To those true heroes, I may never understand your courage, your strength or your sacrifice. Not everyone will understand and not everyone can do what you do. The time doesn't come for everyone. But when it did for you, you acted. That is the biggest and most defining statement in our world- your choices. Undeniably, your choices made the world a better place. You chose to help, you chose to heal, you chose to be heroes. Among all the actions in this world, those above all others are unforgettable.

To those true heroes, we thank you for carrying our burden, the sacrifice you have chosen to make for all of us. We may not know your strength or your courage, but because of you, we have the strength and the courage to carry on.