This my be the hardest and most vulnerable post I’ll ever write and I almost didn’t post it…but this day will always be a part of Kensington’s life so may as well start here.
My dad was a police officer. 19 years ago today, he was killed in the line of duty. That was the worst day of my life. As anyone who’s lost a parent knows, it never gets easier; you just get used to it. There’s highs and lows. There’s days it doesn’t cross my mind much, and there are days it hurts like it just happened yesterday. Days like Christmas. Days like Father’s Day. Days like my wedding. And of course, the day that Kensie was born. They’re things most people take for granted. Growing up, they’re things you assume your parents will always be there for.
So today, Chris and I took KB to “meet” her grandpa. Or at least the memory of him.
Though I take it for granted all too often, everytime I see Kens with Chris I am so deeply thankful for the opportunity to raise her with both of her parents in her life. She’s going to learn so many different things from each of us. My dad taught me to fish. He loved baseball. He let me be the only girl on the baseball team he coached (I liked showing up the boys but other than that I actually hated it. Haha!) He let me help him rake the leaves in the yard and picked me up and put me in the trash can to jump on them (a clean trash can, of course…I think). He held me up to put the ornaments on the “tall part” of the Christmas tree. He made himself a human roller coaster ride and we would blast Garth Brooks “The Thunder Rolls” and he’d throw me up and down to the “boom boom boom” part. There’s some things a little girl just needs her daddy for.