See, today is Tim's last day as a full-time police officer. My fingers keep hovering over these keys and I am still unsure what to write, but I know something this big needs to be documented. These are thoughts from my perspective, not his, but I think there may be some threads of these thoughts that ring true for the both of us.
Six years ago, Tim became a police officer. It is actually how we met--he was in my brother's police academy. Tim was chosen to deliver the class speech at the graduation and as I laughed until I had tears in my eyes, even though I did not know him, there was something that.... pinged inside of me, something that jolted my thoughts to think "Oh this one.... this one is something special." I literally ran into him as I was opening a door to try to find my brother after graduation. Those of you that know me know that I am much more likely to have embarrassing word-vomit than become speechless, but that's what happened.
Tim and I began dating a few months later and I was there to witness some of his first days on the force. I was there to hear some of his embarrassing mishaps (and there were quite a few of those!), see the pride that came with actually knowing what to do (no longer guessing and asking others), feel his heartache as he began to encounter things that most people will never have to deal with--dead bodies, failed attempts at suicide, successful attempts of suicide, poverty, children in situations they should never be in. Tim took it all in, solved problems, handled crises, and damnit if he didn't do it well. At the end of that first year, among other awards, Tim was awarded Rookie of the Year. What has set him apart from many others, and what continues to set him apart, is his deep heart for others. He is a serious jokester, and can be so sarcastic at times you have no idea if he is kidding (kind of why we get along so well!)..... but all of his kidding aside, he shoulders the pain of others more than I think he would be willing to admit. He still keeps in touch with some individuals that he helped maybe his first year on the force. He still brings up situations that bother him even years later and wonders what happened to those people.
Tim has received a myriad of awards through the years, this one being no different. He saw a need for people who abuse prescription drugs. He sees what a slippery slope it can be from a small pain pill use in someone after surgery, an injury, what have you--to becoming a full-blown addict. The lack of knowledge and support out there drove him crazy. The thought of someone suffering from something that was once so minor poked, prodded, jabbed at him until he could sit back no longer. He came up with some ways for people to get rid of old prescriptions and went around to different neighborhoods to talk with community members to try to educate them and help them.
Throughout all of these years of police work, our home lives have shifted as well. We got married, starting living together, and found out we were pregnant all within 3 months. Lierre was born and Tim's loyalty, heart, and devotion shone again as he cared for her daily. He helped ease the transition back to work for me as best as he could, while simultaneously taking care of Lierre on his days off and getting her where she needed to be on his days on. He can match her clothes, pack her bag faster than even me, put a hairbow in without batting an eye. He knows her "stats" and how much medicine she should get and for what.... I could go on and on. We are the very most important people in his lives. I do not say that pridefully, but instead the same way I could say "The sky is blue." or "Two plus two is four." It is fact. He tells us daily. He showers us with words of affirmation and adoration. Given the choice between doing pretty much anything in the world alone, or being with us, 99.9% of the time he chooses us. I am thankful daily to have a husband who understands the importance of family.
With this unwavering devotion to Lierre and me.... there, of course, also has come a form of pain. Pain of having to miss parts of Lierre's everyday life while he works for four days at a time without seeing her. Frustration of having to miss parts of Thanksgiving or other holidays, trying to schedule this or that so that he could be around for our birthdays. Feeling locked-in and unable to be flexible to do what might be needed (or the "little extra") at her school. For a long time, this just WAS. It was our situation. We dealt with it. There were still days of happiness from work. Of him coming home feeling fulfilled that he helped someone. Pride in doing a job well. There were also days of "I can't believe I just dealt with all of that and have to go back again tomorrow. I can't believe I didn't see Lierre do x, y, z." But I consoled him, he focused on the positive at work, and we kept plugging along.
Over the last year or so, Tim has had the opportunity to start up a side job doing pressure washing and other small house-hold type jobs (cleaning gutters, painting, etc). He had experience this back in New York before moving down here and becoming an officer. Tim and his partner began getting more and more business and we started tossing around "What-ifs." What if they keep getting more business? What if they stay this busy? How are you going to juggle both?.... After months of noting progress, more business, and a growing since that with family is where he needed to be, Tim decided he wanted to go all in with his business and leave the police force. There were days and weeks of deliberation to make sure this would be the best choice, and just when he was about to leave back in the spring, Tim was involved in an incident that resulted in him having to shoot someone. Right when he was about to leave. Any fool who thinks it did not get to him, if they knew him at all, is just that--a fool. We have been grid-locked with the investigation, with questioning, with paperwork, with one horrible news article in the paper and on the news after another. We have been stopped by strangers to be told he did the right thing. He has had his moral integrity questioned. His name has been smeared through the mud. But through it all, he has kept his head up. We were betrayed by someone very close to the investigation, but he continued to keep his composure. Tim has made me proud in ways I didn't know where possible. I never thought that my very family would be attacked by the outside world. I never thought there would be days where I might feel uneasy being alone at home or stepping into certain crowds, or even reading Facebook newsfeed. But the last months have brought us closer than ever.
Through it all, the tightness of the police community, our other family, has made itself known time and time again. I don't think any of you all know (and you all know who you are), what it meant to Tim, and to me, and to my parents, and to his parents..... to know you all had our backs. That you cared. The flood of text messages, phone calls, voicemails, letters, and more have kept us going these last few months. I never had a single doubt, that if I needed it or Tim, help could be received within minutes from a handful of people, and given a few more minutes, multiple, multiple people would have been at our disposal. This kind of tight-knit group is something hard to describe or pin down. It comes from a common desire to protect, to serve, to help, to give, to do GOOD, .... and also from understanding that there are so many who would be glad to take that down and tear it apart. It comes from having one another's back, as well as their families.
While Tim and I were dating, I met floods of people through his work. Big, tough, often cocky (or is it confident? haha), burly guys (and sometimes girls) who scared me to death at times. Now, I consider them brothers, family. I know in a given moment if they needed it, we, too, would be there for them. And I think that right there is what I might miss, and what I am slightly mourning most of all today. I will miss being so closely involved with so many caring people who are family. We will of course keep in touch, and that thin blue line will never be severed completely.
Throughout it all, though, Tim has made me proud, and being SO brave to go out into business on his own makes me proud in a whole new way. I admire him, am thankful for him. I am thankful for the time he had with so many brave individuals through GPD. I love all of you and can't fully believe that he won't be going out to join you every day. But I am thankful that Tim loves his family. I am excited to see him more. I am thrilled Lierre won't cry herself to sleep saying "Daddy, daddy" because she hasn't seen him in days.
I ask now for your prayers, support, and encouragement as we move forward. We leave behind something great, but hope we are moving forward to something even greater.
Thank you all for your support the last six years.
Thank you for the laughs.
Tim--I love you more than words can say.
You are so brave.
And.
I.
Am.
Proud.
Of.
You.
