To my non-LEO husband,
I see social media posts from several police wives cheering on their husbands who wear the badge and vest every day protecting their communities. I see wives wear shirts or necklaces with some sort of “proud police wife” logo, read blogs by other LEO wives, and have forums just for them. It’s heartwarming and a welcome sight to know my fellow officers have this support.
What I don’t see is the public support for police husbands. It’s not a traditional role to have just the wife as the law enforcement officer. There’s usually the husband as the LEO or both spouses wearing the badge. I don’t see “proud police husband” on shirts or coffee mugs. They’re made to order perhaps.
You sacrifice so much more as my husband because of my job than any of our friends could understand. Over the years you've watched me put on my gun and badge, kiss me goodbye, and tell me every time I leave for work, “I love you, be careful.”
You've had family and friends question how you deal with knowing the dangers of my job. I've been asked numerous times if you were also a cop. When I tell them “no” the next question is usually, “Really? What does he think of you being a cop?” There’s no simple answer so I just say, “You’d have to ask him.”
You've listened to sirens in the distance and wondered if it was me headed to a call in progress, or my zone partners headed to me for backup. You've paced for hours unable to reach me after hearing that a female deputy was shot on our very street, and had to keep your bearing for the sake of our boys until you knew I was okay. You've watched breaking news of violence against police officers across the nation then watched me get ready for work to respond to similar threats of violence in our own community.
You've been woken in the middle of the night by me having to leave for a call out even on days that I wasn't supposed to be on call. You've dealt with last minute cancellations for dinner or plans with friends because I ended up with a late arrest. You've had to leave work early to get our boys because I'm stuck on a crime scene.
You've put up with squad parties surrounded by cops talking in ten-codes you don’t understand, and see me laughing with them about inside jokes you “had to be there” to find funny. On holidays I've had to work, you've made your homemade sauce and baked ziti for my zone partners knowing it would be our only hot meal that day.
You've listened to me talk about calls for service that would give most people nightmares. You've watched me struggle with my own nightmares from certain calls that I couldn't talk about. You've accepted my career choice and told me numerous times you’re proud of me. You understand why I do this job.
I see this. All of this. Thank you for your constant support, your sacrifices, and for keeping faith and God in our family. I love you more.