Wow. I really hadn’t realized how much I am affected by Travis being a Police Officer.
Somehow, with this last anniversary of 9~11 I really realized how much it weighs on the back of my heart.
The thought that he could be gone ANY DAY.
I mean, somehow, him being in such a high risk job makes it more glaringly REAL than just living everyday.
The fact is, when he worked at a Lumber Mill before he became a police officer, there were more deaths in that mill in one year than there have been in Law enforcement here in the last four or five.
The fact is, that the last deputy to die in our county died in a traffic accident while he was driving his own car on his own time.
The fact is, death still stares me in the face.
I can’t BEAR it when Travis leaves the house and I have not hugged and kissed him.
The fact is, I sometimes tear up when he holds me, just because I start to think about how much he means to me.
The fact is, everytime he leaves for work, I tell him how much I love him because I don’t want something ELSE to be the last thing I said.
The fact is, I make sure that our kids have the chance to say goodbye too. I DON’T tell them WHY…
The fact is, I WANT my husband to shoot to kill. Anything less might mean that HE is the one who never comes home.
The fact is, these things live in my stomach all the time. They make me notice the little things, and remember to hold my tongue.
The fact is, I think about this way more than I let on.
The fact is, that even though I didn’t personally KNOW any of the victims of 9-11, I know that the REAL victims are the families. The parents, sons, daughters, grandchildren, wives. The ones that are still here. Still facing day to day.
The fact is, THEY could’ve been ME. MY family. My sons.
The fact is, it scares me.