I feel I’m lucky in the sense that I came to police wife bizarrely well-prepared for the trauma.
I mean, I spent a few months working at a center for domestic violence victims. I studied the effects of rape, sex trafficking, and other kinds of trauma throughout college because it’s a field I wanted to work in.
While it better prepared me to help my husband cope with the horrors of his job, there are some things you just can’t prepare for. And even though my husband does his best not to tell me the worst stuff he sees, he’s also better able to separate himself from the emotions – so he doesn’t always realize the stories he tells me are things I did not want to know.
And sometimes after hearing these stories, I can’t help but wonder: why did that have to happen? How is that fair?
I mean, the question is really a classic one. Who hasn’t asked the question, “why does God let bad things happen to good people?”