He kept us safe

Lori and Kris pose for pictures

My cousin Kris is retiring as a police officer today.

His time is up, as amazing as that sounds.

He would want no fuss. 

But he needs to know I'm proud of him.

He probably knows it, as I'm not really one to hold my emotions. 

He, on the other hand...

But we've walked too many roads together. Literally. I'm a few years older but we've also been close.

Yankees games and Renegades games and Rangers/Islanders games and Huey Lewis concerts and Great Adventure and I'm forgetting far more beyond that.

I got to shake Huey's hand because of him.

And laughs. We're all about laughs. A ton of laughs.

He defines first responder to me. He would have gotten to Lower Manhattan on Sep 11, 2001, if he could have. That's just how he is. Beyond that, he's experienced a lot and has the stories to tell.

He's done bike rides to honor fallen police officers. I've lost track of how many times he's pedaled from Boston to Washington, DC.

He hosted various charity events to raise money for those bike rides.

My mind is always fairly blown by what he does.

We've had many talks about law enforcement and he's always my go-to on such topics. I know the pain he felt -- without saying a word -- when he lost a colleague who was killed in the line of duty. I know the rage and sadness of any loss of a police officer.

I know his anger over the "bad cops" who give police work a bad name.

He knows everything from me because that's our fundamental difference but it's a good ying and yang.

I was at his "walk-off" ceremony today when he left the station following his last shift. He didn't know that his loving wife Lori had invited me as a surprise.

I predicted that he'd hate the whole ceremony. He's not one for the attention but he smiled and hugged everyone after it was over. 

He went out with the cops after and I went with Lori and family back to their house for some pizza. Then he's going to getaway.

"I'll see you when I get back," he said. "When do the Renegades start?"

"May 4," I said, forgetting to tell him that game is in New Jersey.

"Then I'll see you May 4th."

Ever the "Star Wars" fan, he made sure to add the obvious:

"May the fourth be with you."

Laughs. Always. Just as we like it.

He'll grudgingly thank me for this post somehow.

But he'll hate the attention.

So I did it this way. No schmaltz. 

Just pure admiration.

He's impacted a lot of lives and now has a lot of living to do. He'll work again -- that's who he is -- but he'll also be a tireless grandfather, father, husband, son, brother, and (second) cousin.

He's done a lot of good. On the job and off. He's the embodiment of "a phone call away."

I'm proud of him.

I thanked him for his service.

A reminder of a good cop.

They do exist and they are plentiful.

That's what he'd want you to know.

* Posting the picture up top reminded me of a quick side note about Kris and attention. We took a selfie in Baltimore once in gaudy Orioles' Hawaiian shirts (they're sort of so ugly they're cool) to send to my mother. I posted it quietly online with a hashtag. Er...that hashtag wound up getting the picture up on the giant scoreboard in center field at Orioles Park. He either called me "a jerk" or "an ass" (I don't remember now) in part because he hates attention but also in part due to his job. It's about as "mad" as he ever gets at me. I felt so guilty as I tried to laugh it off. And I still feel that way, a few years later.