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The Day I Lost Count Of My Friends Who Lost Their Husbands.

10/23/2014

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It wasn't supposed to be like this.  It was just a blog. A place for informative statistics. A place to spread awareness about the risks and mental totality of law enforcement.  A place to encourage spouses of our men and women in law enforcement. A place to wake those up who didn't get it, and to lift up those who do.  A place to let our officers know the half units were out here, supporting them when most did not.  Then something happened...... it got personal.

I don't supposed I ever contemplated that it would get personal.  Not like this.  I'm one of the most cynical people I know. Decades working in high conflict family law has led me to be a person with an extremely low tolerance for bullsh*t.  I can spot drama a mile away and have absolutely no patience for it.  I'm an older police wife, 45 years old, old, old to be exact. Most of my children are grown, in college and the little one that showed up with autism and a slew of medical issues is simply another  blessing disguised as a challenge to this well seasoned mom.  I've learned to keep walls up which prevent personal emotion from disrupting my life.  I have no time for tears.  Too much to get done, it's called life. We deal with it or let it rule us... no one rules the emotions of this chick.  I've made my mistakes, I've learned, I've grown into the seasoned veteran police wife and no nonsense mother that it takes to be a success in my world.   Well.....wasn't I surprised when all of that fell apart in the form of sobbing tears at the realization that yet another one of my sisters in blue had lost her love?  Perhaps I'm not as strong as I think I am.  Perhaps I'm much like so many of us.... waiting for a moment, a circumstance, a situation that brings us to our knees and reminds us exactly how human we really are.

I woke up on Monday morning to learn yet another one of my sisters in blue had lost her husband.  As I scrolled through my news feed I saw a sea of blue.  Blue roses, thin blue lines, the same badge over and over displayed as a profile pic.  I saw sisters from across Texas and the nation united.  I saw what I always see.  I saw what I have seen too many times to count.  As I continued to scroll I noticed how many of those profiles in my newsfeed were surviving spouses themselves.  I don't know why it had never really hit me like that before, but Monday it flooded my heart like a tsunami.  I went to my friends list. As the tears fell I counted..... three.....five....six....ten......fifteen......twenty seven.....  I had to stop.   How did this happen to so many of my own sisters in blue?  Well.... I know the answer, after all, I'm the one who thought it was a good idea to start telling the world about how it happens years ago.  Monday I realized just how high I have built those walls of protection from the reality of what I write about.  I realized when they came crashing down in a heap in the pit of my stomach.

All that being said, it didn't last long before I did what I always do.... find a way to deal, push through and move forward.  How blessed am I that my love is still here which makes it quite easy for me to find plenty to hold on to.....that's exactly the thought that came to mind.  I corrected myself quickly.  I corrected myself because I know better.  Despite those walls I have built for myself, one thing I have continued to do is listen...and learn.  I have had no better teacher than each of those survivors.  I refuse to call them widows.  Not a single one seems like a widow to me.  They are not victims, not one of them.  They are each remarkable pillars of hope and strength and positivity and knowledge.... they are wise. They are full of life.  I watch, I listen, I read as they all work through their periodic moments of pain.  I watch as the anniversary photos come up year after year.  I listen as they talk to the stars and the moon, reliving precious memories.  I also watch as they continue to live and laugh and love and make a new life for themselves.  I watch and listen as they teach me that no matter how much pain you have lived through there is tomorrow.   There is one step at a time. 

This week I have watched and listened to those like me, who still have their loves.... I have watched as they have formed a circle of love and support around our sister April.  I have watched state lines and distance evaporate.  I have watched as disbelief, pain, anger, sadness has changed into tones of support, love and dedication to this sisterhood.  I have felt the silent guilt of many as we all secretly thank God it hasn't become us, I have felt many of us reach out to let our spouses know exactly what they mean to us....  I have heard the collective cries for the pain of a mother and a family that could easily become any of us.  

Yes, this week I realized just how many sisters I know who have lost their loves.  I have also been reminded just exactly how it is they were able to take those first steps into the next day after loss..... they were never alone.

May God be with April, Audrey and Johnnie's family.  May each and every one of us remember we are wives on duty.  Our duty most days is to our spouse.... but there are days our duty is to carry our own through loss. 













 
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Grooves and Curveballs - Respect the Groove! The Police Wife Life

10/3/2014

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My husband has been an officer for his current department for fourteen years, he’s been an officer for seventeen. And throughout the years one thing has remained consistent relative to his experiences at work, as well as emotional situations in general….. BL is not a talker. And it’s not as if he’s lacking an emotional side or that he’s prone to stifling his feelings, he’s just one of those “it is what it is” kind of LEOs.

LEOs get in a groove… and there’s a big difference between a groove and complacency, however, one can lead to another for some. BL, is just a very matter of fact kind of LEO. He’s very rational when it comes to death and critical incidents and those bad calls that still make me cringe upon hearing about them. He rarely talks about calls, and being a negotiator he’s had some doozies. But it is his style, his groove, and over his seventeen years in law enforcement, it is how he has chosen to cope with what he has seen.

Over the years I have learned his groove. I have learned that not sharing is not the equivalent of him shutting me out. I know not to take it personally if I feel he is upset and I say “you ok?” only to receive a short “Yep…what’s for dinner?” in return. His groove is not about me, it’s not about my feelings. His groove is not about MY need to make sure I feel confident he’s alright. His groove is just that….his own coping mechanism which allows him to function in this life in a way that works for him.

I know his body language. I know when he sits in his chair, only managing to get his shirt and vest off, lingering in his boots (with plastic booties over them…we don’t do stranger DNA in this house), rubbing his forehead with his hands…. that’s a bad day. I know it without him saying a word. If he comes in the door on the phone, clearly dealing with a bad day that’s not going away, I keep my distance until he is done. I don’t impose family time while he’s still trying to finish work time. I don’t take that personally. I know he no more wants to be on the phone explaining to his Sergeant or whoever else he’s still having to talk to about the incident than I do… he walked in the door for a reason, because he’s ready to be home. I continue on with what I’m doing, I tell the boy child “daddy’s on the phone, he’ll be out here in a few minutes” and we let him have that time to be done, decompress, do what LEOs do, shed the gear, get out of the Kevlar, change clothes without the spouse and kids hovering……. I mean… is there any parent (mom’s particularly) who don’t know the struggle of just wanting to go to the bathroom in peace? I get it. I know he’ll join us shortly. If I don’t get the immediate satisfaction of “Acknowledge us, you’re home!”….yeah, I’m not that wife.

Likewise, BL and I would both regard ourselves as a cynical, sarcastic, completely politically incorrect couple… our affection is like a boy and girl throwing rocks on the playground kind of thing. He is sure to grab my a** before he kisses me. His motto has always been “when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. Shed a few tears, toss my ashes out the sunroof (uhhm..ewww..no…) and head to Vegas and have a drink knowing I did it my way.” We are not the mushy, gushy, crying kind of pair. We’re too old for jealousy or competition or petty bullsh*t. Drama in any form is not our thing.

So, when my LEO, who has a very well established routine and groove in regard to law enforcement, comes in the door as I would describe “ON FIRE!” literally unleashing a fully animated recount of everything that completely pissed him smooth off and upset him and left him shaking his head while on duty that day…… there’s a moment of “deer in headlights” coming from me. I catch myself in a “whaaat the whaaat? Who is this man?” blank stare before it registers…. HE’S TALKING! Crap! Pay attention WOMAN!

Yesterday was one of those rare days. BL walked in the door and unleashed a detailed account of what had him all riled up upon his return through that door. And he was walking and unleashing…. In and out of the master closet, words flying out of his mouth, you could see the brain was working overtime as he was himself deviating from his groove. I could hear myself thinking “gun…. your gun…in the safe… dude, take your belt off before trying to unzip your shirt” watching him in this off kilter dance that left me sitting on the side of the tub trying to find the balance between listening and knowing when to interject as I, myself, had to absorb the change in his groove.

At some point in there when he was rehashing the same thing he had already said, clearly needing to say it again, clearly trying to come to terms with it on his own, I found myself just staring at him, having my own conversation with myself. I found myself studying him, watching his lips moving but hearing a whole other conversation…. I found myself with a clear image of all the days and all the years this non talking LEO must do this very dance, INTERNALLY, without ever speaking a word.

In that moment, I found myself reminded of everything he deals with and how well he deals with it, which I take for granted because of the groove. He always comes home to a supportive wife, he knows he will never walk into a house of conflict. He knows this is his safe haven. He knows I will never chastise him for his groove and how he deals with his life on duty, but in that moment I was reminded of how much there is within that man, how much it must take for him to walk in our door, head to our closet, do what he does in those moments between 10-8 and 10-7. It’s not just a radio call. It’s more than going off duty. It’s not a switch. And yet, because of his groove, he has learned a way that works for him to enable him to transition from officer to husband and father and lover and friend when his day is done.

It did me a lot of good to be reminded of all he carries with him, whether he unleashes every day or whether his groove only allows him to overflow when he needs to, it is still all there. I’ve got mad respect for a man who can carry it all around and figure out a way to manage it all within his head and his heart and still manage to be the man he is on the home front. And, it makes me even more determined to make sure he comes home to a place that allows him to escape some of it, somehow.

That’s a choice for us both. A determined effort. For him to leave it and come home and LOVE his family. For him to come home and separate the baggage of the badge from the comforts of home. For him to keep separate the frustrations and emotions and turmoil from the streets from the love of his wife and children……..that’s his choice and it must take an effort, simply because of all there is to leave at the door. And he makes that choice, and he emerges after that decompression period with love. And it is my choice and my effort, regardless of my day, regardless of my struggle, to be there to embrace him and remember what he has had to let go of to then be fully available to me and our family.

We all have our grooves. In relationships we have to figure out and remember how to mesh the two and get our groove on together (so to speak). It you can respect each other’s grooves, chances are you’ll be getting your groove on together more often as well.

RESPECT THE GROOVE (but be ready for occasional curveballs).
~Mel ©TPWL

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    Author

    Melissa Littles is a published author, blogger and legislative advocate for Law Enforcement Officers and their families, as well as an advocate for Autism.  To learn more, see our "About" section.

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