Father

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.