Every once-in-awhile I am struck by the gravity of Blue's line of work. I stumble through my thoughts wondering how on earth I have found the inner strength or peace of mind to deal with this change, with this life, on a daily basis.
I was driving to work (yes, I got a part-time job) yesterday while Blue was at home sleeping and it hit me. My husband is no longer my own. My children's father is no longer their own. We share him. His heart is fully mine yet, given the opportunity, he will put himself into harms way over and over again to help those in need. I would hope that most people would be the same whether they wear a uniform or not. There are amazing stories of civilians stepping-up and coming to the aid of the deserving and undeserving alike. You never know when you will be called upon to intervene. The difference, and the reality that often gets to me, is that, for Blue, this is every day. Every. Day.
The occupational hazards of Blue's job are being spat on, kicked, punched, stabbed, shot at....
This is our life now. We kiss him and say our "I love yous" as he's leaving for work and I pray that he has a good shift but when he gets in to work and puts on that uniform you never know what will happen. He has a duty to serve and protect and he will see that through even if it means he could be hurt.
I suppose I'm wading through all of this right now because he was at a call the other day where shots had been fired. I didn't think much about it at the time...until I was driving to work. It hit me all-of-a-sudden that this is our reality now.