I can still see your eyes sparkle. And your voice ever so soft, as you lifted that little girl up into your arms comforting her and saying you’re safe now.
We parted after the code 4 (all clear was given). Your next call was a domestic violence call. Your closest back up was minutes away, I knew you were alone, and my heart skips a beat on the other side of the parish. I was working an (accident with injuries) when my eyes darkened. I was dying inside; when I felt your arms lift me to safety. You told me everything would be all right. I saw a tear in your eye. I keep dreaming of that sunset on that final call.

As I kept fighting to feel your arms around me. I awoke from a deep sleep and saw all those somber faces of our brothers and sisters with black bands over their hearts. You were my special angel; your Domestic Violence call was your last.

A gun, five (5) shots rang out, and my huge bear fell fatally wounded. I can never see the sunset again without remembering my gentle partner, my friend. As I tell everyone that leaves the trauma room, I put on my uniform jacket. I try to gather all the pieces of my life you have touched, and walk out of that hospital room, down the hospital halls to the outside. I turn at the end of the hall to face the room where you lay silent and say goodbye to you one last time.

At the memorial service, I could sense your presence in the church, my eyes filled with tears. News Crews and people close by realize police officers have human emotions and grieve for their fellow officers killed in the line of duty. For my bear that dedication to serve has now ended.

My police unit stands in front of your final ride, a long procession of law enforcement vehicles from many communities around the state who came to pay their final respects to your supreme sacrifice. Sirens wail, blue lights flashing, I can still see you holding that little girl. Like it was yesterday. Sadly, I was not there to hold your hand. I picked up my microphone, and made the final broadcast saying tearfully DB110 (10-7) your shift has ended, goodbye my partner, and my wonderful friend.

You’re my special angel now. My heart bruised but still beats strong. I know I’ve got to get through the pain and wipe away the tears of your loss. Now when I need to talk to you, all I do is bring a white rose to your gravesite and talk to you like you’re standing next to me just like before when ever we had the chance on shift duty.
Taken by the most violent call a Domestic Disturbance, the devils demon. A beast of a call, that leaves us behind to grieve the most unholy call of them all.
I lay down to sleep at night and dream about your face, and know I cannot freeze on my next domestic violence call. That’s the sticky part, keeping my emotions in check. My comfort is remembering your gentleness has touched my heart and I know you will be close by if I ever get in trouble.

And one-day, I will be coming home to meet you and walk our beats in heaven. Till that day, I will always remember your kindness in my heart. Every time I look at your photo, I get that inner strength to carry on where you left off. With St. Michael, St Peter at your side -- may you continue to watch over me. You touched my soul and forever made it glow.
Goodbye my Partner, My Friend.