Thursday, October 4, 2007


Never forget the moment
your father became a mortal
That fearfully simple moment
when the sun shone and the birds sung.
Never forget the thought
that his gun really was a gun,
Before your eyes in that thought
his badge became a target.
Never forget the day
when justice became personal,
And always remember this The Day
when you forget the fragility of his heart.

I was maybe 12, and I had read in the papers about the robbers who shot a cop to death, I think it was Malexander, or sometime after that. Dad told us this story about stopping a car, I can't remember exactly why but it wasn't for any big reason. They found loads of drugs. And they found several weapons in the back, among them a shotgun with the pipe cut off. He told it like a funny occurance at the job. I think, looking back, that he just needed to say it to get it off his chest.

And I thought, no, I understood for the first time: My father is a policeman. My father could be killed any day. By some random thug on the street whose life isn't worth crap compared to the man my father is.

And I was afraid for days.

Love you, dad.

1 comment:

Madelen said...

Vad jag saknar dig Da- Ryun!

Det värsta är att jag får se mer av dig när jag läser din blogg än när jag träffar dig in real life...
Hoppas du kommer till Jocke imorgon eller nån dag under helgen.

P.s Don't ever stop writing. ^^