It is a rare occasion that I see Max in his uniform, he usually leaves the house in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. He keeps his uniform in his locker at work and only brings it home on the weekends when it needs to be washed. There is something about the look of him in a uniform that makes me not recognize him. I just don't see him as a cop. All I see is the fun loving guy who puts me and Conner ahead of himself, plays trains with his son, loves watching star wars movies, reading Nicholas Sparks books and gets tears in his eyes. I just can't imagine him as the guy handing out tickets, holding people at gun point, or even raising his voice at anyone. Today was one of those rare occasions when I saw my fun loving guy in that uniform that somehow demands respect just by having it on. Max came home at 8:00am from being at work all night, he was in his jeans and t-shirt. I made us breakfast as Conner ran around making us laugh and we joked with each other as we always do. Then around 9:30 he began to get ready for the hard 3 1/2 hours ahead. He was faced with a fellow Police Officers funeral in the coming hours. As I watched him get ready I saw the transformation take place right before my eyes. It happened so slowly that if you only knew him as a husband, father, and friend you would not recognize him as "Officer". It started with the blue polyester pants, then the bulletpoof vest, then the blue button down shirt, then the jacket, then the gun belt, and the final touch The Badge. Each article put on with such care and purpose. Once everything was in place he became stiff, stood-up a little straighter, walked with more athority, and was less talkative. On the way to the funeral the car was silent, not the usual random and silly conversations that goes on in our car. As we got closer to the huge curch there were more and more cop cars, flags, and people with "demanding respect" uniforms on. We pulled into the curch parking lot and Max got out of the car and gave me a quick kiss good-bye (I don't do funerals) and said he would call me when it was through. As I was leaving the parkinglot, passing so many men in blue and flags flying overhead something hit me inside, and I began to cry uncontrollably, this could very easily be flags for my husband. I try not to think about what my husband does all night while he is at work, it is just too hard to sleep if I realy think about it. But, at that moment it hit me hard, then I looked in the backseat and saw our beautiful son and suddenly was at peace. Seeing Conner smiling back at me made me realize why he puts his life on the line, for us, to keep us safe. And although the uniform is shocking, underneath "the man in blue" is my sweet, compassionate, and caring husband who puts on that uniform everyday so that he can come home eat breakfast with his wife, play trains with his son, read his books, and watch his geeky movies with the joy and comfort of knowing that he feels safe because of the work that he and his fellow officers do.