Having working parents is not just a paycheck.  I hear the paycheck is not the reason behind their drive to work.

For us kids, it is their absence from holidays, birthdays, school events and childhood milestones. It is the phone ringing and knowing the emotional, yet seemingly normal departure is coming.  It is arriving  home late at night, physically and emotionally drained.  It is contributing the fruits of their labor to the communities they serve.  It is the lasting trauma from that case that is still unsolved. It’s the dust as they drive off, leaving us behind because our parents are called to serve.  It’s the rattle of handcuffs and velcro being a comfort, knowing they are home safe. It is having their uniform at their fingertips, during all times.  It is getting paranoid while in a crowd and quickly locating every exit nearby.  It is the mental toll from the horrid pictures and videos and the smells that don’t leave their head.  It is still hearing the gunshot, the screams, and the cries. It’s having to wash a victims brain matter out of your own clothes.  It is not knowing who will pick us up from school because they cannot be two places at one time.  It is packing a suit case last minute.  It’s traveling all over the country in the name of solving a case and bringing justice for a victim or shining light on the truth.  It is executing warrants while we fend for ourselves.  It is wearing a gun on their hip and getting awkward stares and ugly gestures.  It is being disrespected and hearing whispers to defund the police.  It is feeling guilt while wondering had they approached the crime differently maybe circumstances would have changed.  It is never actually being “off duty”.  It is the nightmares and the sacrifices.  It is blood sweat and tears all day every day.

It is never questioning the premise of giving your own life for the safety of others.  It is giving of your own life, just as Alamo Police Officer Dylan Harrison did in my small, hometown.  It is being willing to lay their life down for a stranger.  It is having to pull the trigger to protect their own life, when it is the very last thing they ever want to be forced to do.  It is walking the thin blue line and bleeding blue. It is to protect and serve while saying “Here I am Lord, send me.”  It is having a committed, selfless heart behind that gold badge that we dread seeing them put on.

It is not easy having parents in law enforcement, but if not them, then who?