Grief Stricken
"He died."
I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. Lieutenant Giardello, a man I grew to respect and admire for the past seven years is gone just like that. I think I shall probably never see his like again. Not even Lieutenant Gharty, as well intentioned as the man is, can fill his shoes.
"That's not funny, son," says Bolander still denying the awful truth.
"Wasn't meant to be," counters Brody, slightly annoyed but too overwhelmed by his own sense of loss to care.
And that's when I hear her muffled sob. I turn to Kay, her face completely revealing her grief stricken state. Anguish and sorrow have so altered her features in just those few seconds ago when Brody gave us the news. She has lost her old commanding officer, her friend, a man who was like a father to her. Her grief cuts my heart. What happens to Kay, happens to me. This is the epiphany that hits me as I sit here on my barstool.
I put my glass down on the bar and reach for her, pulling her into my arms, into my embrace. She doesn't even hesitate. She was reaching out for me already. Her head on my shoulder, I can already feel her hot, wet tears soaking through my suit jacket, through my shirt, into my skin.
I am taken back to a few years ago when she had held me after my fiancée had been killed, the day I broke down at my loss. Kay had been then, and always had been, a source of comfort and strength for me. I could only hope that I could be that for her now.
Pulling her in closer to me, she wraps her arms around me a little tighter. I've missed her. Our friendship has been strained since she broke up with me years back for reasons I can't even recall now. Maybe it is just my ego that thinks it was because I got to close, that she really did love me but was afraid of what, of what I do not know. I only knew I loved her. When I got engaged things got worse. Maybe she was jealous. I don't know. But since my fiancee's death we have slowly been rebuilding our friendship. I loved my fiancée, but I had loved Kay too. And you still do, an inner voice whispers. Maybe Kay still loves you too.
I look down the bar at Falsone comforting Ballard as she too sheds her own tears for Gee. I see Kay and I reflected in them. Both trying to comfort one another, both, maybe, trying to get back that which was once lost. Maybe there's hope for Kay and I, for Ballard and Falsone, and for each and every one of us who's worked in or alongside the Homicide Department to reconnect with each other. Tragedy has brought the family back together again. If there's one thing I've learned from these detectives who served under or with Gee it's that we are all stronger together. That we still have each other makes the pain a little less even though there is a noticeable empty spot in all our hearts tonight not only for Gee but for all our friends who have been lost along the way. It'll be that way for a long, long time.
"He died."
I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. Lieutenant Giardello, a man I grew to respect and admire for the past seven years is gone just like that. I think I shall probably never see his like again. Not even Lieutenant Gharty, as well intentioned as the man is, can fill his shoes.
"That's not funny, son," says Bolander still denying the awful truth.
"Wasn't meant to be," counters Brody, slightly annoyed but too overwhelmed by his own sense of loss to care.
And that's when I hear her muffled sob. I turn to Kay, her face completely revealing her grief stricken state. Anguish and sorrow have so altered her features in just those few seconds ago when Brody gave us the news. She has lost her old commanding officer, her friend, a man who was like a father to her. Her grief cuts my heart. What happens to Kay, happens to me. This is the epiphany that hits me as I sit here on my barstool.
I put my glass down on the bar and reach for her, pulling her into my arms, into my embrace. She doesn't even hesitate. She was reaching out for me already. Her head on my shoulder, I can already feel her hot, wet tears soaking through my suit jacket, through my shirt, into my skin.
I am taken back to a few years ago when she had held me after my fiancée had been killed, the day I broke down at my loss. Kay had been then, and always had been, a source of comfort and strength for me. I could only hope that I could be that for her now.
Pulling her in closer to me, she wraps her arms around me a little tighter. I've missed her. Our friendship has been strained since she broke up with me years back for reasons I can't even recall now. Maybe it is just my ego that thinks it was because I got to close, that she really did love me but was afraid of what, of what I do not know. I only knew I loved her. When I got engaged things got worse. Maybe she was jealous. I don't know. But since my fiancee's death we have slowly been rebuilding our friendship. I loved my fiancée, but I had loved Kay too. And you still do, an inner voice whispers. Maybe Kay still loves you too.
I look down the bar at Falsone comforting Ballard as she too sheds her own tears for Gee. I see Kay and I reflected in them. Both trying to comfort one another, both, maybe, trying to get back that which was once lost. Maybe there's hope for Kay and I, for Ballard and Falsone, and for each and every one of us who's worked in or alongside the Homicide Department to reconnect with each other. Tragedy has brought the family back together again. If there's one thing I've learned from these detectives who served under or with Gee it's that we are all stronger together. That we still have each other makes the pain a little less even though there is a noticeable empty spot in all our hearts tonight not only for Gee but for all our friends who have been lost along the way. It'll be that way for a long, long time.
