I had no choice but to move on. We trudged zombie-like through our days for weeks and weeks on end. I never left the house except to drive the boys to school, or buy food we barely touched. I realized that I had to do something. I had to move my body or I was going to crawl out of my own skin. So I put on the only cap I had and I went for a run. It was short, it hurt and it was ugly. But I felt, just for those few moments on that road, like a normal person. So I kept doing it. I put that hat on and I ran every day. Sometimes I had to stop and sit down because I was sobbing so hard. Sometimes I was so angry I ran until I thought I my heart would stop, sometimes I would just scream over and over again, but it still felt better than doing nothing.
That black cap became a symbol to me, it is sweat stained and it’s shape is gone, the buckle in the back barely closes; but that hat represents my family’s rise from the ashes. It stands for the strength and the sacrifice we made loving a man who had a job that we all knew could end his life, every time he walked out that door. And it did. And I accept that.
I still wear this hat, I wore it on my run this morning.
And then I heard about your new ad campaign.
Please take the time to read her whole letter and then her poignant conclusion. Some very powerful emotional currents are running here and Nike is running upstream.
www.dailywire.com/news/35608/widow-slain-police-officer-writes-open-letter-nike-hank-berrien
www.dailywire.com/news/35608/widow-slain-police-officer-writes-open-letter-nike-hank-berrien