It had been a long day. Keith and I had been at a reunion of his Meyer relatives. (His mom was a Meyer.) The weather had been a bit chilly, but the rain held off and we were all grateful. Great to catch up with some of Keith’s cousins I only interact with on Facebook. Still, it was also nice to get home again late afternoon.
We had a quiet evening, making homemade sundaes and watching TV. I fell asleep too early as I often do. By the time Keith shut off the light and put away his iPad to sleep at midnight, I had to get up. By the time I lay down again, I discovered two problems. One, my left shoulder had begun to ache, the sort of deep-down pain that stretching and moving or keeping still doesn’t help.
I hate taking anything for pain considering I have sensitivities to most pain killers–both over-the-counter and prescribed. The pain medicine I do have is strong and I am very motivated NOT to take it. But my shoulder got worse.
But as I contemplated what to do, voices caught my attention from across the street at the park. When the weather warms, it is not unusual to hear voices at the park long after the times posted. Usually, I hear laughter and swing chains as young people play on the equipment. There was no laughter in these voices. A male voice raised in anger, followed by a female voice. I heard anger and threat in the tone. I tensed. If anyone screamed, I was going to scramble for the phone.
I waited, catching only a word here and there. The argument appeared to escalate. I heard muted sirens and then the bedroom lit up. Crawling out of bed, I walked to the kitchen and looked out the window to see at least two squad cars, though they were hard to see in the darkness beyond the flashing lights. After that, I heard only quiet voices. Maybe 15 minutes later both the couple and the officers were gone. All was dark and quiet outside again.
Even the distraction hadn’t kept me from realizing the pain in my shoulder had increased. It was unlikely I would sleep. Reluctantly, I took half a pill with a cup of water, waited for it to start taking some effect and headed back to bed. I thought of the possible consequences if the couple hadn’t been accosted by the cops. I thought of the police patrolling our streets when they would probably rather be home with their families. I give thanks for those willing to “protect and serve.” I had something to handle the pain, but it took the police to handle the other matter. To those in blue–thank you.
By Carolyn R Scheidies
Published in the Kearney Hub 7/8/2019