I am very proud of Brent.
He is a wonderful father.
He is a good husband.
He has a level of peacefulness and patience that I will never achieve.
He is just a truly kind person by nature.
He works a very stressful job that could have easily robbed him of his faith by now, but it hasn't.
He is very brave and smart and I trust him to be safe while he serves other people.
But sometimes it's hard.
He has worked a weekend shift for 3 years in a row now.
It's fine. We make it work nicely. We spend time together as a family during the week instead of the weekends. It all blends together nicely and we make it work.
But sometimes, Sundays are hard.
I go to church by myself.
That's fine.
My parents are there and they help out with the girls if I need it.
The girls are getting better and better at sitting still and staying quiet.
But sometimes, I am just tender hearted that Brent is not there.
I watch other couples, young and old, quietly converse.
Or smile at each other.
I watch husbands put their arms around their wives and she will rest her head against him for a moment.
We are there to renew our covenants with our Savior and our Heavenly Father.
And the space beside me is empty.
I'm not necessarily jealous of those people, but I just look at them and think how nice it would be!!
I would never want to deny someone else their happiness because I feel something missing.
That's not fair.
I am not one who is prone to tears, but I feel them well up because it just doesn't seem right.
I, for not one moment, think that I have it worst.
No, not at all!!
There are plenty of women who do it every week, with more kids, or maybe with out a prospect that their husband might ever be next to them.
My own mother went to church by her self for many many years before my dad joined the church.
I think of him more on Sundays than any other day he works.
He always crosses my mind but Sundays he's there throughout the entire day.
I am never afraid for Brent.
I've had other wives openly admit that they couldn't handle their husband being in law enforcement.
It would be too scary.
I am never afraid.
He's smart.
He's brave.
He's trained.
And he works with men that are also smart, brave and trained.
I trust them.
His job is very demanding.
It's stressful.
He sees the decay of society on a daily basis.
He can never relax at work.
He can't!!
Even on a slow day he has to be in an alert and ready mentality.
He handles it very well.
But sometimes it's hard.
Only 3 times in the last 7 years have I ever been worried about Brent.
Once, when his sergeant called me and I saw his name and number and thought for sure he was shot.
False alarm, he just needed some info!!
In all honesty, I am more worried about him wrecking his car on his way home than ever being injured on the job.
Second, when he was in an officer involved shooting and his job became very real.
Third, when I read a story about a family who lost their father. It wasn't even a law enforcement officer. It was a just a regular man. It just made me think about if regular men can die early, how much higher of a chance does he have?
But I can't think that way.
I feel like only being worried 3 times in 7 years is pretty good.
I pray for him every day.
I think of him often.
But Sundays, I think of him and pray for him the most.
I'm not sure what prompted me to write this post.
I am by no means complaining about his job, or regret it, or have any negative feelings about the profession he chose.
He chose wisely.
It fits him.
But sometimes, it's hard.
Maybe I was just feeling particularly homesick for him today.
Maybe my daughters will need to read it one day.
Maybe someone else does.
Maybe I'm just getting more and more emotional as I age.
Regardless of any of those reason, I felt it needed to be written down.
