My father, Paul, a retired police officer and a single dad, has been affected by this cop-culture, and it has affected me and my family personally. When I look back at times when his job has taken away time with me and my family, I get brought back to Christmas Eve.

The living room of my grandma’s house was a mess with wrapping paper scraps and bows scattering the floor. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and my parents observe me, my siblings, and my cousins on the floor playing with our new toys while drinking their coffee and tea. My dad looks at the time and sees he has to be on shift in about an hour. Since his precinct was about a half hour away, he had to start getting ready for work. I remember seeing him all dressed up in his police uniform, ready to leave, as my grandma told him to stay safe. He always would give me and my sisters a kiss on the cheek and say I love you before he left for work. I felt his sad presence walk out the door as my whole family said goodbye. I always knew he was sad, leaving all of us to be alone on Christmas Eve.