Dress Blues

I have not worn my uniform in years. My boots have long been neglected a good polishing. My shiny name plate, my awards, my Field Training Officer badge have suffered a long cramped hibernation in my jewelry box along-side expired driver’s license and knives that have been equally dormant.

However tonight, they were woefully given proper attention. With uniform cleaned and pressed, I began to adorn my uniform shirt with badge and banner. Dress blues as some call them, Class A’s as we address them. I painstakingly placed the name plate straight as a razor’s edge above the pocket, followed by my Advanced Peace Officer’s bar and next my Meritorious Service Award. Then one of my painfully favorite adornments, my F.T.O. badge, all top off with a small pin of the Flag of the United States of America. With polish on the belt and boots, all of the pieces are placed in the closet for tomorrow’s event.

While I have not worn the uniform in quite some time, I am not pleased to be wearing it this day. For it is not worn for battle, or duty, or fanfare, or praise. It is worn for honor. To honor a life to short lived, but lived none the less. To show honor for a family member of a blood line that can only be joined by courage, grit, integrity, and trust. And so, classically polished, like our brethren himself, we will honor his life, for it is those like him who have come before us that have made our profession what it is today.

“Blessed are the Peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.”