Last night, we went to a retirement party for a state trooper.
As his wife spoke, I couldn’t imagine the emotions she felt.
He made it.
He survived.
We have four more years until my husband hits 25 years and can retire. I never want to waste time away but I’m tired of this police life.
I’m tired of the media.
The Monday morning quarterbacks.
The liars and haters.
I’m scared everyday that my husband, who has had an impeccable career, might need to make a split second decision, do everything right, and still lose everything we’ve worked for and built.
This year I’ve asked him on more than one occasion to retire early.
To lose part of his pension and other benefits because the risk is too great.
And yet he is unwavering to the oath and commitment he made.
And last night was no different.
As we drove home from the party, at 9:00pm, after a full day of working in his woodshop, on this day “off”, he answered his dang work phone.
I hear him utter the phrases I’ve heard tens of times over the years, “I need to drop off Stephanie, change, and then I’ll be enroute.”
And that’s exactly what he did.
We don’t own our schedule.
We don’t have the luxury of coming home from a long day and chilling.
He always answers the call.
I use to wait up and worry. I stay up as long as I can, say a prayer, and give him to God.
He rolled into bed at 3:30am. I knew what he dealt with couldn’t be good as he had a fitful night sleep. No one will ever know what our officers see when they close their eyes.
Horrific scenes beyond comprehension.
I don’t share much about our police life because I choose to focus on giving, gratitude, goals, and my faith.
But every once in a while I think it’s good for wives to share our life to counter all the lies and negativity from the media and those who know nothing about law enforcement and the lives we live.
Today, like every day, I’m grateful for the men and women of law enforcement.
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