Unless you've been living under a very large rock, the violence of the past few weeks is still some of the freshest news. Police killings in both Baton Rouge, Louisiana and Dallas, Texas, have only added to the everyday stress and worry that comes with having a law enforcement officer in the family.

Every morning, Monday through Friday, I watch my own dad walk out the door to his police cruiser, hoping he will come home safe that night. My dad has been a police officer for almost 25 years and has worked many dangerous cases at all hours throughout the years. I remember staying up until midnight or later when I was little just to see him before going to bed. There has always been a certain level of fear and stress, but I guess that's part of the job description.

Last summer, I traveled with my dad to Omaha, Nebraska, attending the funeral of an officer who was just days away from starting her maternity leave. She was shot during an attempted arrest of a drug dealer. Experiencing the funeral, standing in the ranks of officers paying their respects, riding through the procession, and standing amongst the hundreds of people out in the rain at the graveside raised my worries for my dad to a higher level. Every day it seems that a police officers job becomes more and more dangerous. Luckily, my dad will be able to retire in just a few years and be able to spend many more years after that with his grandkids.

The following is a poem written by my dad, Tim Lindsey, as a tribute to fallen officers everywhere who did not get to return home to their families.

"You Don’t Remember Me, Do You …"

by Tim Lindsey,

Lamar County, MS Sheriff’s Dept.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who unlocked your car

after you accidentally locked the keys and your baby up at the mall.

I was the one who gave you a ride to the gas station

when you ran out of gas on that backroad.

I was the one who changed your tire

because you couldn’t figure out how to work the stupid scissor jack.

I was the one who directed you safely through that busy intersection

when the traffic signals weren’t working.

I was the one who gave you a jump start

after you left your lights on.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who found the item

that identified the guy who raped your daughter.

I was the one who spent my days off in court

to testify and help convict the man who beat your son so badly.

I was the one who located your grandmother in the woods that night

when it was 22 degrees and she had wandered away from the nursing home.

I was the one who loaned you the raincoat

the night we stood and watched your house burn.

I was the one who talked with you for two hours

about your son running away from home.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who held your hand,

wiped the blood out of your eyes, and calmed you down

while the Fire Department cut you out of what was left of your car.

I was the one who called you at 2 a.m.

to come pick up your 16 year old daughter

because she had been drinking too much.

I was the one who knocked on your door at 4 a.m.

to let you know your 16 year old daughter

would never be coming home again.

I was the one who did CPR on your 3 year old

after you found him in the pool.

I was the one who helped deliver your new baby

when you didn’t quite make it to the ER.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who got the snake out of your bathroom around midnight.

I was the one who got my knees and elbows scraped up

fighting with the shoplifter with your carton of cigarettes.

I was the one who took your son for a “ride-along”

so he could see what it was really like.

I was the one who gave you the right directions

so you wouldn’t miss that business meeting.

I was the one who stopped you

to let you know your right rear tire was going flat.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who escorted your son’s funeral procession

from the church to the cemetery

and cried behind my sunglasses because he was my friend, too.

I was the one who watched over your place

while you were on vacation.

I was the one who worked for you on Christmas Day

so you could be off with your family.

I was the one who joked around with you

after your truck got hit by a train

and you walked away without a scratch.

I was the one who was able to talk your husband

into going into counseling with you.

You don’t remember me, do you …

I was the one who got shot when I pulled over a car

for a traffic violation and the driver turned out to be an escaped convict

who had sworn he would never go back to prison.

Oh, by the way, my memorial service is at 2 p.m.

Will you remember me now?