by Jim Geeting            

            It is with a humbling honor that I write this message to my brothers and sisters of the badge who have retired from service after normal retirement from a career full of excitement and escaping any injury or who, like me, were nearly killed in the line of duty and no longer able to continue.  There is nothing nobler than a career of selfless service and no more gallant people sharing this earth than those knights who have given a portion of their lives and of their sound bodies, to others.  Sadly, we are all soon forgotten and our daily deeds of courage and duty disperse into the winds of history.  But we remember.  We will always remember.

            While a normal service retirement is great, if you’re like me and have retired before you had planned because of injuries or trauma, it is important to remember that events we could not control put us here.  We did our best to stay alive, win and protect or people.  Whether it was some single incident with only a year or two on the job or a career of 20 years of cumulative trauma to your mind, body or spirit.  Whether a physical limitation or the emotional stress bucket finally spilled over and it was time to move on—away from the only world in which we were comfortable—the world of cops and robbers.

            It took awhile, but as the months away from the job have proven for me, there is indeed life beyond law enforcement.  Know what?  It’s good.  It’s fun.  It’s complete. Just different. You will carry until your last breath, the knowledge that you gave. God will thank you for it.  Now, you move onward.  It’s time.

            A normalcy returns to your outlook on life, on people and believe it or not, on law enforcement activities in your community.  Soon, you will place the cops you see not at some level above all others, but into a perspective of just being a part of what interests you, like everything else.  Being a cop and living that life no longer consumes every waking thought, every emotion and every dream.  It’s true—the bad dreams will stop.  A normal life returns.

            Old hobbies return, stress slowly dissipates and if you let them, friendships with people of all callings blossom.  I know this one will be tough to believe, but soon, you start to lose that, “dirt bag or cop—nothing else” outlook, where regular folks (like you, now) are just that.  They don’t have to be cops to be trusted. In fact, you will learn, no longer a cop yourself, that you can trust lots of good, God loving, family valued neighbors who never had anything to do with law enforcement—other than a deep and abiding respect.

            Probably the best feeling of all, once you fully accept you are done—you will never again be a cop—is that you will start to wake every day, happy to be alive and no longer in a constantly guarded “condition orange” but a more realistic, easy “pale yellow” where you are aware that there are bad guys out there who do bad things, but that you no longer have a real, tangible worry that you will have to deal with them today on your shift.  Some other younger, healthier, eager kid will take his or her turn at protecting the rest of us from evil and we will simply thank him in our prayers like everyone else does, curl up at night in our favorite chair and watch TV.  Yes, you will always care about them; perhaps a shade more than one who had never been there, but you will understand your day to suit-up and go out there has passed—and you will be glad for it.

Take silent pride in knowing you served, you protected and you offered your life to your fellow man for as long as you did.  Rest easy now in what you have earned—a life of proud reflection, humble gratitude from those who know and this—this unique place of fraternity on the web—PoliceVets.Org.

Here you will be among family—brothers and sisters who have done what you did, felt what you felt, feared what you feared.  They understand your often black humor, sometimes off-color remarks and the occasional drift into a rant about some stupid prosecutor, arrogant judge or a young captain, who perhaps stumbles at the weight of his shiny new badge which has never seen a bloody wreck, a weeping child or been crushed by the hug of a brother cop after you both survived a shootout together.

And, we know your pain—be it of loneliness or stiff bones.  Either way, you are welcome here.  Wanted here.  Understood here.

You are family and you belong.  We’re glad you’re here.

                                           For information on Jim Geeting and his books
                                                        please visit jimgeeting.com