For those who aren't, the world just keeps spinning, without missing a beat. Meanwhile, I'm at my desk at work wondering what the hours of tonight have in store for my family. Why hasn't he called me in three hours? I wonder if he's eaten today. What if something happened. Lord, I hope he walks through that door tonight.
It never ends.
Days like today don't make it any easier. Days when I'm cooking breakfast and turn around to see my husband dressed for work - boots polished, collar brass in place, vest strapped on tightly.. and that awful black stripe across the badge he wears so proudly. I've seen him wear it three times. Today, in honor of Sgt. Kerry Mitchum of LPD, in September 2013 in honor of Cpl. Mike Stockwell with OBPD, and then there's the first time I ever saw it. November 2012 in honor of our very own Scott J. Ward. Every time I see it, it starts all over again - the queasy feeling in the lowest part of my stomach, followed by a knot in my throat so heavy you're not really sure you can squeak out a single word. The dread, the worry, the sadness. Picturing a family in mourning, just as mine was - and still is - after losing someone so incredible so soon. The complete rock-bottom feeling you get when you think of what's ahead for so many in order for them to move forward.
When my husband and I attended National Police Week 2013 in Washington D.C., we were both so eerily quiet during our last night there. While laying in bed, we were both thinking the same thing and neither wanted to say it.
There are so many officers on duty right now whose families will be here next year.
It gives me chills.
Isn't it unsettling to know that these men and women finish their training at the police academy and receive their agency's uniform, complete with a thin, black little piece of fabric to go over their badges in case one of their own is killed in the line of duty. Unbelievable.
That tiny little piece of fabric is a huge symbol for the brotherhood that is law enforcement. When one hurts, all hurt with them. I've never seen anything like it.
My husband and I have friendships that stretch across the U.S. because of this crazy law enforcement life we live. They're friends who mail Christmas cards with pictures of their precious families on them, friends who send us a basket full of monogrammed goodies for our beautiful little girl, and friends who call every year on November 23rd just because they understand. For those dear friendships, we are incredibly grateful.
I didn't choose this chaotic life, but I certainly wouldn't trade the family that comes along with it.
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