Life changed forever for my family on Saturday, April 28, 2012. I received a phone call from my mom that my dad was having a heart attack and was being rushed to the hospital. I was with my best friend at the time for planned a girls’ day together. She told me to get in the car and drove me to the hospital. We arrived just in time for my dad to introduce us to the doctor and to see him flatline. 

I collapsed in the hall into a pile of fear, sadness, confusion and pain. I couldn’t hear anything, but could see my mom crying, my sister’s mouth moving and the image burned into my head of the flatline. I kept saying, “Please help him, please help him” ‑ perhaps to the doctor, perhaps to God, perhaps to anyone who would listen. All of the sudden, my sister said, “He’s talking. He’s okay.” The doctor had brought him back to life. They whisked my dad away to the cath lab and we waited for hours in the waiting room, surrounded by cousins, aunts and friends.

While I sat in the waiting room, I started sending text messages to other friends and family members to let them know what had occurred and noticed an immediate trend in the responses I was getting - most of the initial return texts and voice-mails came from officials. The remarkable thing was that the responses were not necessarily coming from individuals I had directly contacted. Word was traveling quickly about the news of my dad’s heart attack. I started receiving prayers and well-wishes from the officials within my state and was soon receiving offers from those out of state to fly in to New Mexico to be with me. People from coast to coast, from high school to the NCAA to the NBA, were quick to ask how they could help and how soon I needed them to get to New Mexico.

I felt overwhelmed with the emotion of the day and simultaneously overjoyed by the amount of love, care and concern that my family and I were receiving from so many people. You find out so much about who your friends are when faced with sicknesses, emergencies and other times of stress. You find out the depth of your relationships with individuals when you are wrought with sadness. You find out who you can lean on and who will absolutely be there for you in a time of need. On the day of my dad’s heart attack, I found out that the majority of the people who have been there for me in good times and bad are officials.

When I entered this avocation nearly 16 years ago, I had no idea that officials would become my passion, my lifeblood, my friends and, ultimately, my family. Officials are the people with whom I laugh. Officials are the people who pick me up when I’m down. Officials are the people who understand what I do and what makes me tick. When officials succeed, I feel a true sense of pride. When they fail, I only want to pick them up and help them through the adversity. I celebrate happy occasions with officials. I survive tough times because of officials. Officials have been the ones to make me smile, to dry my tears and to help me put my life together when it has fallen apart. Many say that within officiating exists a fraternity. I say it is much deeper than that – within officiating exists a family.

The great news is that my dad survived his heart attack and at age 70, he is stronger than I’ve ever seen him. He had flatlined a total of four times the day his cardiac episode struck and he was brought back to life four times. He went through cardiac rehabilitation and, wouldn’t you just know that one of his cardiac rehab therapists was one of my wrestling officials? This young man took care of my dad and worked with him through his rehab. I felt like my dad was in good hands because, to me, it was family taking care of family. Isn’t that what we do in this profession? We take care of one another ‑ or we should anyway. When my mom, sister, brother-in-law and I sat in the hospital waiting room that day, we were in the company of my aunts, my cousins and my best friend. Of course, one of my officials and his wife ‑ who has become a true angel and blessing in my life ‑ came to the hospital on their wedding anniversary to make sure I was okay. We take care of each other. We are family.

When one official falls, other officials should be there to pick him or her up. When one official succeeds, there should be 100 other officials celebrating that success. Officials should treat one another like family. Fight for one another ‑ not with one another. Work collaboratively ‑ not in conflict. Just like family, there will be problems and disagreements among officials. Just like family, work together to fix the problem and make it work. Families may be dysfunctional at times, but they are still families nonetheless.

I am truly fortunate to do what I do for a living. Officials strengthen me and make my job seem less like work. The friendships that I have made across the country and in “my own backyard” are some of the most meaningful bonds that I have. When I pick up the phone because I need a willing ear, a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on, the voice at the other end of the phone is often an official. They are my family. I have gotten to see my officials’ kids grow up over the years. I have celebrated graduations and weddings with them. I have grieved over illnesses and deaths with them. We have become interwoven in the tapestries of one another’s lives. The members of my officiating family make me better at what I do professionally, but more importantly, they make me a better human being.

A quote by Richard Bach sums up the meaning of our officiating families: “The bond that links your family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.” I respect my officiating family with all I have in me and have received more joy through this profession than I could have ever imagined. We didn’t grow up under the same roof, but we live in the same world, share the same passion, and are there for each other unconditionally. Be grateful for your officiating family. I am thankful for mine every day.