I never dreamed it would be me

My name for all eternity
Recorded here at this hallowed place
Alas, my name, no more my face“In the line of duty” I hear them say
My family now the price will pay
My folded flag stained with their tears
We only had those few short years

 Sure, they still invite him to the Christmas Party.  And once in a while one of the Troopers will seek him out and come and talk to him for a while.   Some need a favor, like putting in a good word for their promotion.  Some need advice.  And there are a few, a very few, who call on a regular basis just to check up on how he’s doing. 

 More and more of his old friends are retiring from the State Police, too.  And some have died.  And some are dying.  Once they leave the job, though, it seems that no one cares quite as much.  The phone which rang every 2 minutes no longer rings.  The police radio chatter is no longer part of our lives.  The badge and uniform are no more.  They hang in the closet, collecting dust, waiting for the time that they will be used again, for the very last time.

 The Captain lived and breathed the State Police.  He still does.  And I’m not sure he will ever get through the heartbreak of leaving that place.  I don’t think he wants to.

 Not every retiree misses the job this much, I imagine.  Some go on to their hobbies and their grandchildren.  Not the Captain.  His hobby was working, and the grandkids loved sitting in the police car, flashing the blue lights and sounding the siren.

 But for now, it’s just the Captain and Me.  He tells the stories of days past and I listen intently.  I have heard every story a hundred times, but I love to see the look on his face when he tells these stories.  The look in his eye is a sparkle, one I only see when he talks of the State Police. 

 If you know an officer who is retired, call them.  Talk to them about days past.  Ask for advice.  You never know, you just might make someone’s day.