What It’s Like

Notes, a new series on journeys and observations. Told in short form because we’re on the go. Told from the heart because that’s me and that’s you, too.

In Motion from October to November 2017: Notes

When my Dad retired from the police department, years ago now, there was one thing that stood out at home.

The daily scent of the bullet proof vest and its disappearance after retirement.

You know, for all the years that he got older and grew out of his youth, I never thought of him aging when in uniform. If I saw or heard him in uniform, it was as if I was still young and he still invincible — almost.

All throughout his career the almost piece lingered in our stomachs, and that doesn’t change no matter the time.

When Chicago’s healthcare employers randomly and offensively asked me about my Dad’s agenda on teaching me how to bullshit, it was confusing at best. When they randomly asked me if I was afraid of retaliation against him months later, and then created training modules that simulated an angry police officer dressed in the same clothing as he wore when he visited me…..of course it wasn’t just coincidence. They were probably purposely going through quite a lot of trouble to divert from other serious workplace issues.

I also felt dismayed because I knew where this was headed. And while the world watched great diversion that was molded around police, police families and community safety, I knew those moments on the job were not going to go away.

I knew if I opted to not let anyone get the best of me, if I opted to stay in public eye, my childhood and health would be scrutinized. I knew it would be lengthy, and I knew there would be some good things coming out of all the mess. But I also knew some things were permanent. Like that Chicago healthcare mock.

What’s it like?

Well, I’ll save you the contemplative time: We never had a serious, permanent injury or police officer death that surrounded my Dad on the job growing up. We weren’t surrounded by gunfire on our daily walks to school. We weren’t initiated into gangs in early life. We’re a pretty normal family fortunate to grow up in a pretty normal (amazing) town, and the town had some tough social and domestic issues. Like any community. There was crime and more crime. Like any community. My Dad went to, came home from, and thought about these issues. Like any good police officer.

We watched a lot of movies and shows growing up. Lots of crime dramas and some cop shows too, if an escape from every day life wasn’t on the daily menu. We weren’t spooked at the thought of an officer down. It’s just part of life, and part of the the job.

And Goodfellas has always been as good a movie as Godfather. There. I said it.

What’s it like?

Since 2013, it just seems like when I come across a story of law enforcement or prison guards…or even public lawyers…intentionally injured on the job, I find myself more compelled to read the story. Not always, but often.

I’ve always felt sympathy in cases of officer loss, so that isn’t any different now. But my stomach feels tighter when I hear about it. If it’s an officer homicide, it feels so bad.

I think about her or his family. And what if that had been my family…or seemingly worse? What if it was a colleague or someone who worked for my family member….what if it was a work family loss to him? And I feel heartache for those in which these cases aren’t “what ifs” but now actual life.

Of course whenever the actual or threat produces a mental image, the obvious scenarios play out. An officer approaches a car and is targeted. An officer rounds the corner of a building and is targeted. A lawyer or someone involved in law gets targeted in an office or home.

Sometimes, and I can’t pinpoint a specific reason why, sometimes if I read and hear about an officer killed in the line of duty, I absorb it as any other news. And then later that day all the sudden I can’t focus.

I know there’s social disconnect between police and the public. I believe police brutality and responsibility is an ongoing issue. However I also believe mistakes on the job, and the training to prevent these errors, are sorely underscored and under-discussed in this same national spotlight.

But mainly I think about that loss. And I wonder if that officer’s bullet proof vest had its own weird scent too.

It’s a heartbreaking thing. It doesn’t happen often, I am aware of that. But when it happens it feels like it does.

Back to my lack of focus — it usually only happens once after I read or hear about a specific death event involving law. If I’m out in public, like in front of a register, I won’t process what the cashier tells me. If I’m at a restaurant, I’ll have to ask the waiter to repeat. This is because I cannot hear what they are saying.

I cannot hear anything.

Sometimes I hear background noise for a second — and then like a rush of sound — and then I can’t hear anything until a little time passes.

Everyone has some glitch that is part of their existence, and I do too, and this one was directly placed on me. I cannot change it. I am not paralyzed, I did not receive a terminal illness, I have not been told about a shortened lifespan due to a rare disease. In the grand scheme of things, my overwhelmed self is not a major issue. Nor is it something I would want another to sympathize. I am incredibly lucky and incredibly blessed in life and in health.

Still, in a major spotlight there is major interest, even in every detail of the person’s issue. So there you have it.

What’s it like?

It’s like I don’t even like talking about myself, and I’ve had to do it since the public spotlight began. I don’t like talking about this issue because it’s a minor one, but seemingly of interest. And so if it helps us all gain insight, clarity, assurance, then I’ll talk.

It’s like even if I was at the hospital bedside again in the future, and former police officers needed observation in their 80s and 90s, having lived a blessed, long life, the protective thought would cross my mind. I may not even recognize them. Perhaps they are even court or other legal entity former family friend peers. However even the slightest recognition in a department brings about a kinship. And even years from now, looking at a cop with a blessed long life, relief over avoidance of an on the job injury would occur. That’s okay.

It’s like knowing a lot of people, a lot of people, in Chicago, in my home community, in many places, worked so hard to make the entire fiasco non-threatening. They worked really hard, partnering with good peers even among these same Chicago employers. A lot of people worked really hard to make the entire situation retaliation-proof and police friendly. That didn’t go unnoticed, it is appreciated, and I love them for it.

For the record, my Dad never taught me how to bullshit. He taught me the value of honesty, how to discern others lies, and most importantly how to love.

What’s it like?

It’s like I was confused when I would Google our names and all these addresses and private information would come up, because I was used to not having our names included in the yellow pages. Now I don’t care at all, in fact I embrace public identity on the internet.

I am a public figure now anyway — not initially by choice but now and forever my chosen movement forward.

It’s like every time I hear of law killed in the line of duty, I literally think back to the calendar year 2013. I picture calendar years in a circle, actually. So if you picture a clock, I think of the time between 2 and 4. Around the months between April and June. These are the months I became 100% sure that external agency monitoring of my private tech meant I would not be able to communicate with my ex boyfriend on the scariness of it…..up until the month my hometown friend joined LinkedIn and everything became secure.

It’s like I didn’t understand why a few who befriended me through social media cared so strongly about this. And now I know they just want to make it better. I think it’s partly because they get technology and computer science in a way I do not. I know they love me. I know I love them. So I want to tell them that they did make it better. They made everything better.

I want them — you in computers, technology, entertainment, sports….I want you to know that there aren’t “set backs” or “slow downs” in these issues. Just like the scar on my lip that has been there since I was three, this is just a permanent part of me. It doesn’t mean you failed.

It doesn’t mean you failed in your attempts to help me, nor form a relationship, nor make the entire situation a bright spot in our hearts.

You didn’t fail.

What’s it like?

It is just a part of life now, for good or bad or in between. Most of the time it’s a non-issue. But it’s there, it’s not something to try to “recover” from or heal. And everything that is a result of it is perfectly as it should be.

You wouldn’t think of me as less perfect just because of the scar on my lip. You wouldn’t twist yourself up as to how you can fix and make it better, even though that character trait is in every fiber of your being and one of the reasons I love you so very much. You wouldn’t tell yourself you have failed, or that you are going to keep me on some trajectory so that you can appease a demand to make it better. With that scar, you would tell me I’m whole and you love me just as I am.

And with this glitch, you still believe I’m whole. No need for trajectories. You love me just as I am.

And vice versa. You didn’t fail.

What’s it like?

It’s like knowing that life has a way of bringing one another into our lives. In Minnesota, I listened to one of the computer guys talk and then I fell asleep, because it felt so safe. That was Mr. Dorsey, and subsequently Mr. Page and Mr. Brin and Mr. DiCaprio. I’ve never had a sleepless nor restless night since. It is something I cannot put into words, and it is deeply personal to me.

What’s it like?

It’s like looking at the eye of a perfect storm, knowing that others from the community I grew up in and and new communities formed along the way are there too. And then it’s like looking at the bright spot now shining through, and wanting others facing their issues to have that same beautiful result.

A lot of people in the world are facing a lot more persistent, serious, urgent issues. I want them to have the same beautiful, realistic outcome.

It’s like feeling so good, because others now understand and believe my glitch is perfect just the way it is. None of us in this circle of love asked for it, but here we are.

And we just live through our imperfections, and one another’s, and that is the perfect way to love.

Of course, better weapons safeguards, training and bullet proof vests for law enforcement, courts and wardens can’t hurt as we go about loving one another.

What’s it like?

It’s like knowing that for the rest of your life, even a perfect storm won’t affect all the upcoming amazing nights of sleep. Nor all the love created from the years along the way.

That’s what it’s like.