Shay told me after Andy died that it took more courage to suffer than to die. At the time, I was just so angry and hateful that I didn't listen - mainly because my father taught me it was always more courageous to die in the flames than to suffer from them. I decided to blame Matt more than anyone else, wanting to believe Andy wasn't at fault in any way. I didn't want to believe he put himself through that window. My neck injury just added to my belief that the pain of suffering was worse than death, to where I wished I had died in that fire rather than suffer through the pain and addiction it caused. I had wished I was dead.
Shay's death changed that for me. I'd seen my own men leave due to permanent disability. I'd seen Vargas on the ledge because he believed there was nothing for him after 51. I'd seen Boden's reaction when his men put themselves in danger - like he'd done in his prime, leaving him with the reminder that nobody can beat the clock. Their injuries may have scarred them both physically and mentally, but they still got to live. They got to be with their families. Shay didn't. She would have powered through whatever injury the blast would have left her with, would have been proud to live through each day no matter how tough it would have been. This job has taught me how precious life is, even when the quality of that life has been lessened through trauma. Sometimes, it's quantity over quality especially when you want your best friend back. Shay taught me that.