I waited. For 33 years I waited.
For someone to show me that the world was worth helping
For you to show up in that ice cream store.
For you to drag me with you to find that otter.
I waited. For months I waited.
You'd made a mistake at that press conference.
One that drove us apart
But then you returned and asked forgiveness, and meant every word.
I waited. For half a year I waited.
We couldn't see each other much.
Not with you on duty and me at the academy.
But we talked whenever we could. I could feel it then. Something growing for you.
I waited. For a year and a half, I waited.
What I felt for you had grown so much it hurt.
I hoped you'd ask me. See me as more than just a friend.
And when you did I wanted to cry in happiness.
I waited. Kneeling there, under that bridge and staring into your eyes, I waited.
Your eyes were tearing up. Beautiful amethysts staring at the ring in my paw.
You broke down crying in happiness, tackling me to the ground.
Then you stared into my eyes, tears falling onto my muzzle, and your whispered 'yes' was the best word I'd ever heard.
I waited. Standing there at that altar, I waited.
You looked so heavenly in your white and pink gown, holding that bouquet of flowers.
Your smile was radiant, your eyes were shining, your face an expression of unbridled joy
And when you said "I do", I knew I was the luckiest, most loved fox in the world.
We waited. Through the wedding and reception, we waited.
Your parents were there. My mom, too.
Your niece Cotton caught the bouquet. Clawhauser cried when Wolford gave the best man speech.
And when we were back at the hotel that night, you pulled me onto the bed, and whispered in my ear, "Now I'm yours and you are mine. Now and forever."
We waited. Orphanage after orphanage, month after month, we waited.
We wanted to find the right kits. Kits who needed the love and happiness we had.
And when we found them, we knew they were perfect.
A raccoon boy and baby girl cougar. They would be ours forever as family.
I waited. For hours in the living room I waited.
I'd called in sick that day. And when you left, you gave me a hug and a kiss and said you'd try and be home by 8.
The call came after midnight. Not from the phone, but at the door.
You were gone, they said. Shot in the line of duty. That night and for time indeterminate, I'd never felt so lost, so alone.
I waited. After I told the kits, I waited.
It was hard. The hardest thing I'd ever done.
How do you tell your kits? Explain to them that Mommy was never coming home?
I held them as they cried. I held them as they screamed. I held them until both fell asleep in my arms sobbing. And once they were safely tucked in bed, I let myself cry, like I'd never done before.
I waited. Standing in the door of your parent's home, I waited.
I came out here alone. The kits were with my mom.
Standing there, I watched as your parents cried and held each other.
They gathered me in, sharing in the loss, so fresh and raw.
I waited. Sitting there in the cemetery, I waited.
Mammals had given their memories of you, and someone had given a eulogy.
They gave you a full police convoy here. Your casket was draped with the flag of the city.
And as they lowered you into that grave, I knew a part of me was being lowered with you.
I waited. For weeks and weeks, I waited.
It took a long time to find your killer. But they did, our colleagues never gave up.
The mammal that took you away was a kit molester, and you'd stumbled onto one of his abductions
And as the gavel came down and justice was served, I knew the mammal would never repay the cost of his transgressions
I waited. After her fourth detention for fighting in high school I waited.
Our little girl screamed and raged and yelled about how she hated the world for taking you away.
I thought I'd done OK. Did I do it wrong? There's no manual for fatherhood.
But then she collapsed in my arms and wailed about how she missed you. And I could feel your arms around us too.
I waited. Standing there, on the academy stage, I waited.
Follow in your footsteps, she wanted. I knew she'd be a good cop. She's valedictorian too, you know.
Our little boy is doing good too. A well-paid lawyer with a wife now, and a kit on the way.
And when her name was called, I stood to applaud her, and I knew you were standing right next to me.
I waited. For thirty years, I waited.
It was time for me to pass the torch. Our daughter will be the perfect chief, don't you think?
Our son has moved away, too. They live in the country now. I visit them often.
Now it's time for our daughter to take my place.
I waited. It took another 20 years, and I waited.
Our daughter is here with her husband. Our son and his wife too. And all of our grandkits.
I've thought of you every day. I see you everywhere I go, too.
We've made the world a better place, I think, and soon, I'll see you again.
You waited. For decades, you waited.
You always said you would. I never doubted you.
It's been so long, so much time has passed.
But then I walk through those golden gates, and you are here, leaping into my arms, wrapping me in your love, and showering me with kisses. And I am finally home.
And now we wait. For days, weeks, months, years, we wait.
Time doesn't matter any more. We're here forever. This paradise, our heaven.
We watch our kits. They grow old. Their kits usher in a new generation.
And when it's finally time, we are waiting for them at those same golden gates as they run into our arms. And we are all together again.
A/N
So this isn't a poem. It's not even really a story. I'm not sure what it is. What I do know, is that this came to me in a moment of inspiration as a tribute to those families who have lost someone in the line of duty.
From myself, and my ever-steadfast and faithful friend and editor, Daee17. Thanks will never be enough to the men and women in blue who give up their lives in the line of duty.