Best Of

Hello, young wife. Yeah, I’ve been in your shoes. I know exactly what it feels like to love a man behind the badge—to watch as he slides on that uniform all neatly pressed; to stand in the shadows quietly watching the methodical and meticulous process of penning on each of his bars, stars, and badge. Oh, I remember. I will never forget the sound of that Velcro as it adjusts and readjusts around his form, nor the click of the gun as it locks into place; the jingle of keys and the turn off, turn on of his two-way, as he tests its readiness. Yes, he transforms within those moments. He would never admit it, but as soon as the uniform goes

Growing up, I could never have imagined that I would one day be a police officer’s wife, married to a walking badge in polyester black. No, the silly games I played pointed to my future husband as a banker or a doctor, someone who made a decent living working a “normal” job like everyone else. I guess I wore those same rose-colored glasses as I imagined and planned out dinners at 5:00 PM each day, holidays with family gatherings, spur-of-the-moment get-a-ways, sleeping blissfully in my lover’s arms at night without a care in the world, and a “Better Homes and Gardens” type boudoir with not a stitch out of place. What I received? I received the polar opposite of my imaginary dreams.