I don’t like to get caught up in any of the politics that go along with Police Officers killed in the line of duty. Believe me I have plenty of my own thoughts about all that surround the matter but this is not what I want my blog to be about.
This picture/quote says more to me than just that idea that Police Officers’ lives matter.
This picture represents to me a sisterhood that I unfortunately now belong to. Yet, I am so incredibly thankful to belong to. A sisterhood of women who have all had to hear those same awful words that they always feared, yet never thought they would actually hear… “Your husband is not coming home.”
This represents to me a sisterhood of women who understand each other. Who know what it’s like to have their heart stop beating when the black cars pull up in front of their house. Who know the terrifying feeling of having to speak those same awful words to their children, “Daddy isn’t coming home”. Who had to walk behind their husband’s casket in front of hundreds, even thousands of people watching and look poised while doing it. Who had to avoid the media, have escorts, and see repeated news clips that focused on her nightmare. A sisterhood of women who attended court date after court date to seek justice for the man she loved and still loves. Women who had to see the person who killed her husband in those courtrooms and hold herself together. Women who know what it’s like to hold their babies tight while they cry for their Daddy. Women who didn’t know how strong they really were until being strong was the only choice they had.
The Blue Blood Sisterhood is as strong as it gets. We understand each other’s sleepless nights, fake smiles, heartache that makes your whole body hurt, unbearable worry about our children, and all the battles that come with grief. We also are each other’s biggest cheerleaders when one of our sisters get through another day, another month, year, milestone, starts smiling again and even finds love again.
I did not know any of these woman in my life before Mike was killed. Yet, that same evening that I was escorted to the hospital to see my nightmare face to face, one of my new sisters was already there waiting to support me. She also drove hours that next day to my house. Other sisters came to my house to answer questions, just be there for support and to help get me through each next step. Many sent me letters, called and texted. They showed up at memorial events, met up with me to get together and brought me the best sleep aides and wine. Women I had never met before June 14, 2016, yet had all been in my exact same shoes. Women who had all lost their husbands in the line of duty.
These women will forever be there for me, as I will be there for for them.
And you’re damn right, their husbands’ lives mattered!
