Posted on by Julie Deziel

Right Here, Right Now

Oh the beauty of this flower. The black stands out strong against the orange. Look how the background lays out just the right amount of blur. “Oh but if I would have” “or I should have done that” as I look at it with a photogenic eye and think of other aspects that I should have done differently with it I could have possibly vastly improved this picture. Instead of just accepting it for what it is right here, right now I want to change it so maybe, just maybe I can be just a little more happy with it.

Mindfulness. A new word I am bringing to my life.

I am going to be aware of what is happening right now without wishing it were different.

Enjoying the pleasant without holding on when it changes as I know it will.

Being with the unpleasant without fearing it will always be this way which I know it will not always be.

I no longer have to bring on the guilt, the shame, the embarrassment into any situation.

Mindfulness. My thoughts begin to settle. My brain begins to settle. I am at peace.

The flower is simply beautiful as it is right here, right now,

Posted on by Julie Deziel

A Hard Goodbye

“911, where is your emergency?……

The sun sets. All the good, all the bad, all the uncertainty and all the worrying that came with the day is complete. As my head lays down on the pillow I can say a soft goodbye to this day. After a few hours of sleep the sun will rise once again and a new day will dawn.

Over the past 2 shifts as a 911 dispatcher I was privy to two calls of children each having found a parent deceased and another working with my partner who took a call of another deceased person. These calls are obviously hard to take and listen “with.” You can feel the heartbreak and loss with the caller as to what is unfolding in front of them. You can feel the shroud of darkness within their voice. It is a type of call that simply will never become “easy” to take or one that, as a dispatcher, “you get used to.”

I know I will take those calls with me when I shut the door behind me at the end of the day. I will think about the caller, the victim, the loved ones left behind and how very much their lives changed in that very moment. At sunset the past few days, did they each think about their own lives and who they held close in it and realize how fast it can end? Did they have an opportunity to say a goodbye to their loved ones before their eyes closed for the last time; before they awoke to a new heavenly day?

These three lives impacted me. They came home with me. I will carry them upstairs with me tonight. They have shown me though that:

Life is short.

We are here to LIVE and live we must.

Worrying will not change the outcome.

Love with all you have.

Yesterday was lived so there is no reason to relive it.

An I love you is a precious phrase, and

Tomorrow’s are never promised so live and love with all you have.

The sun set on their lives and in a way it set even on those that loved them so deeply. It is dark for them and will be hard to see any light for a period of time. Tomorrow though the sun will peek over the horizon promising a new day as hard as it is to imagine for them. As A. A. Milne wrote from Winnie the Pooh, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbyes so hard.”

At the right time as a dispatcher we disconnect with our callers. We do not hang up first, the original caller hangs up. There is always a goodbye. In situations such as these, they are hard goodbyes. I understand the loss. I understand the upcoming hard final goodbye.

Goodbyes though are not forever…that we are promised.

“I will let you go, but if you need anything please go ahead and call back, okay? Okay. Goodbye”. Call disconnects………

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 1 Comment

In The Eye of The Beholder

Oh my what an incredibly ugly picture. A tree that sits out in the middle of nowhere all scraggly, crooked that does not even receive the blessing of green leaves in the summer. I have watched this trees for a few years now after it caught my eye. But…to my eye this is not an ugly tree. What? I actually find this tree quite intriguing. In my eyes this tree could be a person reclining back on a lawn chair holding a favorite book feeling a light breeze coming from the lake on a sunny day. Yes…in the eyes of the beholder. This tree stands as a facet in life. Although to any eye it could be questionable to its relevance in life. This tree has set its roots down, weathered many storms, lost a limb a two and still faces storms every season. It is simply no different than I am in life.

I like to believe that as I age that life will simply settle into a smooth, calm ride. My husband and I will sit quietly each evening and watch our favorite shows (and lots of sports) and welcome our children on a regular basis into our home for family gatherings. I imagine that retirement will come together and we will travel a little more beyond my “hundred-mile bubble” and life will be simple.

We have set our roots on our little home by the lake. We have weathered a few storms in our life. Yes one of us is blessed to be retired and choose a side job that fulfills his every desire. We travel any time we choose…even if it is beyond that bubble (I just do not look). Our life can take the shape of the tree above. Those weathered storms have shaken our tree immensely and at times it seems that outside sources want to ensure it continually shakes. Our tree though is extremely strong and to those powerful pulls they do not know they do not have the power to break the main trunk. Their branch that belongs on the tree may break away and that is certainly the choice personally made. The branch may even say it was pushed or blame but in reality it is their need to take on the responsibility of the break. The branch falls and blows away if it chooses. It is sad; extremely sad. No tree likes to see itself become bare and unprotected. Breaks are mendable…even in trees. New shoots come forth with nourishment, sun, even talking like grandma always did to her plants. The outside forces though are tough to battle. They blow through howling untruth, blame, judgment, hypocrisy…twisting and twirling until it seems as if the winds are hurricane strength that no tree or branch can begin to think about recovering from. The tree tires of all the wind and elements and simply wants to settle into its roots and quietly ponder its life and let those branches go as they have so much more joy in other aspects of life. There is the focus…the little shoots that come forth. The branches that are lost and broken will be missed for they are still a part of that tree. The remaining branches will continue to be strong for the trunk at any point of weather and vice versa. New shoots will come and be welcomed with open arms. Sadness will descend upon the tree but we know the branches that remain will be the saving grace to our tree. That is where truth lies…who sits upon the branches through the sunny times and the rough snowy periods.

So the tree may be ugly on the outside but this beholder sees the love of my husband in the deep roots we have lain over the past 16 years and incredible strength we give each other through the base of the trunk of the tree. The branches are the gifts of our children and grandchildren and extended family, a little worn, missing a branch or two and it is okay. We are a strong tree blowing in the wind listening to laughter and love coming from our branches.

So for now I close my eyes and imagine the tree in a lawn chair on a sunny summer day down by the lake with a light breeze reading a book and simply smiling…our roots are settled and strong and happy with our tree; whether ugly or not. It’s all in the eye of the beholder and well I think it is incredibly beautiful.

Love your tree!

Posted on by Julie Deziel

All You Need Is…Hope

This was the year. This was their time to finally take home the title “Super Bowl Champions.” I am a tried and true Vikings fan and anticipated this more and more as the season played out. I had hope. No, I truly believed they would be playing in the Super Bowl.

I have no idea what you believe the word hope means but to me it is with great anticipation that something will happen although there is no guarantee. It could be a wish, a dream. If you look in the Bible you will find that hope is translated from the Greek and Hebrew languages as an “indication of certainty.”

Hmmmm… so the Bible will take us to the certainty of one’s hoping. I read this and then think that what I am hoping for the odds are in my favor then, right? I can live with that then.

— I hope that my children will be happy every day of their lives.

— I hope that I will be rich.

— I hope that all my officers will go home safe and sound tonight.

— I hope I dance at all my grandchildren’s weddings.

— I hope my son has an awesome year racing.

–I hope…I hope…I hope… so I am expecting a high return on my hopes because the Bible says it is so through those words of certainty of one’s hoping. How awesome then if I spend my life hoping for nothing but good then for most aspects of it my life will roll along pretty smooth. Awesome!

Hold on now. My brain knows though that life does not roll this way. Those hopes do not always come true. That high school crush is not the one for my lifetime or that football game simply is not for the Vikings to win this year.

Do I or we simply stop hoping then? Not me. If I do not have hopes what do I have to look forward to? Where do I put my focus then towards in the future? I simply will continue to hope for all the good in the world for my children and grandchildren. I will always hope my guys go home safe to their families and most importantly I will hope with all my heart that I will dance at all of my grandchildren’s weddings and I will carry a little faith along with me that there is some certainty in my hope.

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How Did the Story End?

I watched the Vikings play on Sunday and their ability to clinch the NFC second place seed leading to a first-round bye.

I read a good book recently and made it to the very last page knowing that Augustus had died.

I followed my son’s 2017 race season each week to when he took home the North Dakota Hobby Stock State Champion title.

I finished September’s edition of Good Housekeeping and know what the fashion styles were for the fall.

In life I get closure if I choose. There are few unanswered questions.

I took a 911 call of a man whose life was beyond despair and sought an end through hanging. Although his life ended his story did not and I do not know it. Why did he choose that route?

I spent 20 minutes on the phone with a woman who was involved in a domestic with her husband and needed law enforcement involvement. He went to jail. What has happened since? Did he get convicted? Is there an Order for Protection? Did she take him back again?

A male suffered a seizure. Is he okay? Will he suffer more?

How did those stories end?

This is a day in the 911 center…no closure, angst, anxiety, wonder and PTSD.

This is a the story’s ending for each shift of a dispatcher.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Silent Night

Ten years ago December 24 we gathered at our home following a cantata I directed at a local church. The house was filled with most of our children, my parents, my brother and a sister, significant others, nieces and nephews, and 2 grandchildren. You get the picture. It was certainly a little crazy with the house filled with much laughter and conversation. Wrapping paper strewn all over the floor and kids anticipating their next present with glee.

Move forward five years and the Christmas tradition continues at my home but looks so much different. My sisters and brother have taken their children and created their own traditions. My mother is no longer alive to celebrate one of her favorite holidays. Mike and I have added to the number of our grandchildren which now totals five. Our children have brought their significant others into our fold. Our celebration remains loud. My heart is content with the noise and chaos.

As the years have moved on we have been blessed with more grandchildren and seen our children bring new love into their lives and seen them lose in the love game. We are aging gracefully and with that we see our children doing the same within their families. They are taking on new traditions and the need to ensure that all sides of families receive time with grandparents, aunts and uncles or whoever it may be. So the silence is beginning to creep into our home more and more each year.

Silence is golden they say…but we are not yet in our “golden” years I hope?! So for now I willing or unwillingly have to find my way through the quiet of the holiday and a small gathering here and there of some family and experience the giggles of a small child opening a gift and soak in their little eyes glistening with anticipation and remember a Christmas not so long ago when the bright colored Christmas paper covered the floor and us as adults could not carry on a conversation due to the excited children playing with their newly acquired gifts.

Silent night, holy night. All is bright, all is calm…I guess I was not quite ready for the calm and silence quite so soon.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

#IAM911


I have no face.

All I am is a voice.

Do you remember my voice, my concern?

I remember your voice.

I remember your scream.

I remember your sobs.

I hear a small child in the background crying as they try to understand what is unfolding in front of them.

I hear a dad swear in utter despair as his son lay lifeless.

I do not see the scene although I imagine just from the sounds.

Do you hear me as I give you instructions on how to give your loved one CPR that my voice is cracking as I try not to cry with you?

I wait with you for help to arrive although I am your first responder.

Do you know I carry your broken heart with me?

I remember your voice.

Do you remember mine?

I am 911.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Until Tomorrow…


How was your day?  When the sun peeked above the horizon did it bring moans and groans that another day had to be faced; possibly work or housecleaning?  Did it bring giggles of children through the house as there was no school?  A new day is upon us and another day marked off the calendar for this year.  It is hard to believe that it is nearing the end of September and the leaves are leaving carpets of gold and red on the ground.  As the sun sets the air is more crisp.  Summer has been crossed off and a new autumn is upon us.  Was is not just spring…yesterday?

Mike, my husband, turns sixty years old in a week.  I have kidded him for awhile now that I never imagined that I would “ever be married to a man who is sixty years old.” We laugh…of course me a little more loudly than him.  It is easier to do when it is not you that is looking at that age.  I am not that far behind though so I should not laugh so hardy.  In my mind though I do not believe I am anywhere near forty, let alone over fifty.  When did this happen? How could it be that my oldest child would be four years away from forty years of age…AND I would be married to a sixty-year-old man? 

Thirty-six years ago I was rocking my oldest child thinking I had life figured out.  I can still see the way the furniture was set up in the living room.  I can see the changing table in his bedroom and how I laid out a towel on the bathroom counter to give him his baths when he was so tiny (who needed the funky bathtubs in today’s baby world). It is all so vivid.  Nine years ago my mom died…NINE years.  It was yesterday I am sure of it, or at least that is how I feel.  The weeks and days before the morning she passed are engrained into my memory which is a blessing.  The talks are cherished and I pray they are never forgotten.  The death process was extremely difficult but I feel honored to have been present for something so moving.  I remember each moment, each slow breath, each hand hold, the tearful goodbye, everything as if it was just this morning.  In a week and a half we will make a second trek to Hays, KS for dirt track racing’s Fall Nationals.  It was a year ago we accompanied Adam and watched him drive for a bigger dance for the first time and we talk about those races as if they were the ones we just went to last weekend.  

I guess time went by a little faster than I thought it would.  I do not know about others but I often rush to get to the end of my work week or anticipate next race or vacation…heck even at times can hardly wait for the next payday.  It does not take a lot of science to figure out that time does not move any faster or slower no matter what.  We lose sunlight and may make a day seem long but goodness it does not change the length of the year.  I know as I am getting close to my middle fifties all I know is I want to slow life down.  I want to slow the years of my grandchildren and keep them little and cuddly forever.  Getting driver’s license and a car, becoming a ‘tween and wearing makeup, 3rd grader having already kissed a boy…whoa!  My children are still babies right?  

So as I look to having a spouse that is sixty in a week I have to turn and look at that sunset and realize that it will bring a new day in the exact same amount of time it took the day before.  Life is moving at the same pace it always will and it is certainly acceptable to allow my brain to think it is thirty even though my body feels like it is seventh most days.  My children will one day all be in their forties rather than their thirties and I will then be in my sixties and Mike will be a week away from seventy…God willing, which now pushes me to take a little more time to look at each sunset just a little closer and take in all that each one has brought to my life…good, bad, happy, and sad. 

Until tomorrow….

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 1 Comment

How Can You Not Smile?


Oh my!  The joy that a smile of a small child can emulate.  Who can resist the chunky cheeks and a hidden dimple that now presents itself?  A smile will cross each of our faces and for a moment in time the stress in our lives simply melts away.  That joy in their laughter is contagious and virtually pushes out any stress and difficulty that are held within ourselves.  

Working as a 911 dispatcher it often brings along extreme amounts of stress, I often search for ways to let go of the stress so I do not bring it home.  There are those calls that simply attach themselves to my shoulders and climb in the car with me that even listening to Ozzy Osbourne cranked so loud that even the deer turn their heads that does not drown them out.  They will sit there with me on the couch and crawl into bed with me doing their absolute best to ensure they are remembered.  Our brains are wired to remember; not forget.  It will work so very hard to remember even the worst memory.  It is a tough battle fighting against the brain wanting to remember and I know to remember those difficult calls can be detrimental to me personally.  I KNOW that I should not dwell on those calls and work through them.  It is difficult though when I may face the same type of call multiple times within the month or even the same week that compounds the healing process.  I have to dig deep within my bag of tools I have learned through counseling and trial and err to ensure I do not become consumed by those memories.

Those same tools need to be utilized in my day to day stressors in life.  Each life comes with difficulty and so often I have to find ways to get through them, at times weeks or even months.  The joy can be as if it is hidden within a word search and I have to find it in the dark.  Working at a stress-filled job certainly has not made me a pro at handling tough days or periods of life or given me the ability to make good decisions such as I have to do in my job which have to be done in a manner that makes the difference between life and death.  I have to take the same tools I use to work through those tough calls into my personal trials.  

Through my fifty-four years of life and through my chosen path of work I have learned that life is simply too short. In life there is pain and each of us will makes mistakes that will haunt us to the very end of our lives, and at times it seems we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. The biggest lesson learned though is to take that extra moment to hear that little one laugh and memorize the dimple when they smile.  Kiss the chunky cheeks and feel the stress quietly slip away for a moment.  I have found the most simple joy that fills me to the deepest parts of my soul through the smiles and laughter of my grandchildren.  They allow me the grace to let it all go.  Tomorrow will be a new day with new stressors but for today I will smile along with them and bring the sweet memories of my own children when they were little and the wonderful joy they brought me with those same smiles and innocent giggles.  

Posted on by Julie Deziel

What Does the Dash Say?


Oh my beautiful mother!  She was taken from us much to early and in a cruel way; ovarian cancer in 2008.  The day before she died I was blessed to give her a sponge bath in bed just as a new mother would give her newborn child one.  So slow and gentle and calming.  We had a special conversation that encompassed her never ending faith and the journey she was given in life.  I was still not able to accept her impending death.  She had.  She did not say, “Why me?” The Lord had walked beside her through the sickness and in every aspect of her life and knew she would be welcomed into Heaven by her Savior with open arms and her just reward would be received.  Mary Elizabeth Lunak 10/2/1943 – 6/29/2008.  She lived.  The dash says it all. 

I have paused to reflect many times over the last few months and thought about my own dash.  What will my dash look like on my stone?  Will it be somewhat curly assuming an up and down life leading to the date on the right side?  I realize the right hand date can come at any time.  Having a serious medical problem will do that to you.  I want to believe that the dash will say, “You have lived a good, prosperous life.” I though would beg to differ.  I have made a huge amount of mistakes over the years.  I would like to believe I would give up my right leg and arm to go back and change those mistakes.  But then again those mistakes are part of my journey and have been teaching moments and opportunities to grow from.  I like to think they aid in flattening out my dash and keep me on track from leaving that dash to appear like life was such a bumpy ride.  My dash shows me having survived 4 teenagers and a few moves.  It led me into emergency medical service jobs and an unfortunate car accident that left me unable to do the job thus pushing me into 911 dispatching.  After learning through some poor decisions in relationships I allowed myself to be truly loved by a man who stands true in his promises and loves me unconditionally.  My stone will hold two dashes to show our marriage dates.  That dash will have an exact date for one of us.  One of us will be alone to remember the other and all the memories we made and hold so close within our hearts. 

I have stood strong on my dash knowing who my Lord is just as my mother did and know when the right date comes I will also be greeted by my loving Father.  My dash may not tell my story to anyone walking by but those that know me may know parts of what my dash says.  I know my mother’s dash; her story.  What does your dash say?  Will your loved ones be able to tell your story one day and emulate with love that journey you took?  For me, I intend to live out my dash.  (By the end of year, Adair in the picture, who had a special relationship with her grandma, will add more love to my dash with the birth of her first child…how full of joy my mother would be holding Adair’s child).  

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 2 Comments

The Door is Open, Please Come In


I walked into your house today.  Yes, I was invited in from the moment I answered the phone but I certainly preferred not to be there.  You sat me down at the kitchen table and told me the most personal aspects of your life and your marriage,  I did not want to be caught up in so much drama.  Tonight you both have had a few too many alcoholic beverages and you have decided it was time to bring up every sin you believed your husband committed in your relationship.  These are things that should be kept between a husband and a wife.  Tonight, you as a couple could not talk it out and it became more than a talk and now you have asked me in.  I cannot unknow your story.  I see you when we are grocery shopping.  I will know you but you will have no clue it was me you let in and told all your secrets to. 

Tonight I listened to your screams and I screamed inside myself right alongside you as your loved one had just committed suicide.  I shook as I sent help to you knowing there was no hope as you had described the scene to me.  I was on your shoulder as you cried, “Why?” I walked around the house with you as you did simple things that occupied you so we could keep our minds off the horror of what had just happened in the bedroom.  Even though I was right there with you, there was nothing but my forced calm voice to attempt to bring you out of your hysteria.  We were sharing your absolute worst moment.  I was there for you but there was no one for me.  I had to go it alone.  You were going to be able to have family present to comfort you.  Surely you will not think of me but I will think of you for many years to come.

One very early morning you awoke and were forced to call me to tell me the love of your life was gone; peacefully finding eternal rest in his favorite chair in the living room.  You do not want me to hang up with you while you wait alone for those I have sent to you on your absolutely worst day.  You take me in and set me down on the couch beside you as you hold his hand and gently cry and tell me how much you love him.  I hear the story of how you met a strapping young man all those years ago at a county fair and how he has had your heart all these years and you ask how you will go on.  I ask about your children and grandchildren and hear about the immense love he had for them and the jokester that he was.  The responders are there and will soon enter your home but before they do I am witness to a very special kiss and a whispered, “I love you honey.  I love you so” as your quiet sobs are muffled against his cheeks and you leave your tears with him.  My tears are mixed with yours though you never saw them.

The ring of a phone and the simple line of “911, where is your emergency?” brings law enforcement, an ambulance or a fire department but it first brings a dispatcher, the true first responder, into your home, into your life, into incredibly personal moments.  You hang up.  You shut the door that you so willingly unknowingly had me walk through.  I was there for you; never leaving you alone in your time of need.  You more often than not will not think of me again…but from this moment though you do not leave me.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Hold On. It’s the Phone . I Better Get It.

How many times does your cellphone ring a day in which you can simply hit the “ignore” button?  How many times does your office phone ring and you are able to look at the caller ID and say to yourself, “No, I will call them back later when I am back from my morning meeting.” At times it is a blessing to be able to just pick and choose which calls to answer.  I would be correct that most often the ones chosen would be the ones that come from your best friend, your mother or significant other and they may each leave you feeling good when you hang up; more often than not you are smiling or laughing at some point during your conversation. Imagine answering phone calls that brings at most times a high level of stress every time you answer that special ring; that ring that sounds like a siren to alert you that this is a special call.  A phone call from someone experiencing one of the worst moments in their life.  I do not have the option to ignore that call.  I do not have the option to call that number back after my lunch break.  I must answer that call as I am 911.

I go to work.  I walk through the back door after swiping my card and enter the building.  I swipe my card once again, take a deep breath and cross the threshold and listen to the room to get a feel for what my shift may entail.  I am in the 911 dispatch center.  I go to my locker and smile as I look at a picture of my granddaughter Harper Grace held there by a butterfly magnet.  I hang up my coat and put my food in my cupboard and fridge and take my mouse pad that has a picture of sweet Juliana as Little Miss Thief River Falls, my special pen, and my headset and I walk around the corner into the center and see where I will be spending the next 10 hours where I will orchestrate the activities throughout the county.

One aspect to this unique job is that it no day is the same and for the most part I thrive on that.  A dispatcher may simply take phone calls mainly dealing with property crimes and dependent upon which officers are manning the many miles of the county and city streets, take on many traffic stops.  Most days bring an ambulance page for an unfortunate family having a loved one facing a medical emergency and then there are the “regulars” that can bring a smile or an occasional eye roll.  Myself and any other dispatcher simply cannot ignore the ringing phone and have no clue what is coming with those rings.  It was recently that the phone sent a siren out signaling a 911 call and before I could even get the words “911, where is your emergency?” out I knew this was a call that would impact me.  Not necessarily in the same manner the caller was impacted but certainly would haunt me.  Her pain and agony could not be dismissed through the screams.  My own pain was difficult to hold in.  It brought forth foreign feelings that I did not know how to handle.  I have had difficult calls in my 19 year career previously that were difficult and similar in nature and did, unfortunately, awake these same types of feelings.  For the first time ever I could admit that the “struggle is real.”  The things that dispatcher “hears” are entirely guttural and agonizing.  Those calls do not go away as a property accident does.  It plays over and over.  In my mind I paint a picture of what is occurring or did occurr. I disconnect from that sad, difficult call and take a walk to get myself together as this night I am lucky enough to not be working alone as most often we do.  Those 10 quiet minutes alone are a blessing. I am 25 minutes away from the difficult call and 911 is ringing again for a plane that had to do a emergency landing which sends the center into high gear.  There has been no true time to deal with the difficult situation and now we are in hyper mode.  Andrenaline is at a high level.  All I ask for is a moment to catch my breath. But for now I cannot do that and I move through the chaos.  Hold on a second, its the phone. I better get it.

Life as a dispatcher…one phone call away from life changing; not just for the person calling but for the one picking it up, “911, where is your emergency?”