The guy in the middle with no hat on is my brother in law. The man he is carrying was his friend from the police department. Officer Jeremy Henwood was shot in the head and killed at the very moment we were celebrating Liam's first birthday.
The call came in while we were playing with the giraffe pinata that he had found for Liam. He and my sister left immediately to go to the police station. I kept their kids and saw them the next day while they were waiting to hear that Jeremy's parents had come in from Texas. Waiting for them to say goodbye to their son and to sign the organ donor papers.
Our week has been incredibly hard. My sister didn't sleep the first night he went back on duty. He came back to see a permanently empty locker signed with condolences. He was asked to not only give a speech at the candle light vigil, but to be a pallbearer as well. The whole week was spent in anticipation and preparation for these two events, all the while trying to keep it quiet so the children didn't find out until they had time to tell them and comfort them.
I've kept my four and their two busy for the last several days. The poor mama and daddy have just been through enough. I didn't let them online or have access to the tv so they wouldn't come across the news coverage. I wasn't ready to explain myself why their daddy was carrying a coffin.
So, I have not seen any coverage of the funeral. I've read online when the kids are in bed or not looking. I didn't get to hear the tribute my brother gave at the candle light vigil. I didn't get to see the funeral as it was broadcast on all of the local channels.
What I did see are pictures. They were beautifully taken by a photojournalist. Beautiful and heart wrenching. To know my brother in law in everyday life is to know the uncle that teases, plays and sometimes tortures the kids (heck, us grownups too). It is not the man whose face I see in this picture. I pray for his peace of mind and heart because I know that kind of pain. His face reminds me of how I felt when I lost Jim. His face reminds me of the despair I felt when I lost John.
I pray that God give you grace, Riter, to heal your broken heart and to bring you home after every shift you serve.
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