Today was the 2 year anniversary of a day that shook our family to the core. February 19th could be a day we hate or dread or even cause great anxiety in us...but instead we choose as the Broady family to celebrate. Celebrate life. Celebrate each other. Celebrate our three children that could have been only two. Today we celebrate the grace of the Lord that allowed Keith to live through a night that...in the natural...should have been the end for him.
I woke up this morning with a strong sense of the goodness of the Lord...almost tangible to me. I feel blessed, grateful, thankful, humbled...mostly reminded of how truly fragile life is. How important it is to measure our days and LIVE in the moment of each day. I am almost determined to do that. I refuse to let the years go by and wonder where they went or wish that I would have cherished them more. I am sure I will probably always have some sense of that, but I am also in a place of understanding and appreciating the small things...and not letting life pass me by.
Psalm 39:4 "LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered--how fleeting my life is." (NLT)
Today we rejoiced. Keith worked first shift but came home to a house...to a family that loves him. :) We had spent the morning making a couple signs/banners to really celebrate "Life Day" as we have come to call it. And...we put up some tacky decorations...tacky because tacky makes me smile and that is what I wanted to do today...smile.
Our front porch looked like this...
with a sign on the front door that read...
Inside we had tacky streamers.
And yet another tacky banner.
Today I sat and listened to some of the police radio traffic from that night. I remember listening to it in the hospital as several of us sat around a long table in a room that became almost a home to me for three long weeks. I remember the administration telling me that they wanted me to hear it before it was released to the public. I cried because of the intensity of the moment and all of the memories...but followed it with a smile today because I could. I remember the day after Keith finally came home and both of us sitting together on the couch listening to every tape that was released, every news reporting, every interview, and press conference...and how we just cried. We had really just survived the weeks before that. Just survived...all of the xrays, MRI's, the multiple, painful bandage changes, the numerous times they drew blood from his arm or had to put in a new IV...or finally a picc line, the emptying of tubes he had coming out from his chest, side, and pancreas, the waiting to see if there was infection, the million laps we made around the nurses station so they could see him walk and so he could regain his strength, the week he spent in rehab...
So when we got home, we were finally in an element of comfort. We didn't realize that we needed to cry, but evidently we did because that was one heck of a cry. The weeks prior to that had kind of been a blur, but reality finally wrapped itself around us and we were able to identify what we had just been through and what a complete miracle it was.
I remember the night of the shooting like it happened yesterday...still very vivid to me. I was cooking dinner...stir fry to be exact. (I also remember that I did not want to eat stir fry for a long time after this whole deal. It still brings back memories from that night when I see it. Weird.) Addison, two weeks away from her second birthday, was playing in the family room. When I was finishing up dinner I called Keith to let him know it would be ready soon. He was often able to take his lunch (or dinner) break and come home and eat when he worked. He didn't answer his phone, but that was not uncommon. He was often on a call or into something, but would always call me back. A while passed and he didn't call, but sometimes that just happened.
As I was washing up some dishes, I turned to see lights in the driveway...police lights. Keith would often turn them on when he pulled in the driveway because he knew Addison loved it. She would squeal and go running to the door. I just figured it was him. Instead I heard a knock on the door and as I walked to the front of the house, I just remember seeing lots of lights flashing and multiple police cars. I opened the door to see my brother-in-law Jason, Keith's brother who is also a detective on the department, standing on my front porch. I looked him straight in the eye and I remember him hesitantly saying, "Kristen, it's not good."
I felt my breath and strength leave my body instantly. I think I asked what happened, but I didn't really pay attention to what his reply was. I knew everything inside of me wanted to collapse on the floor, but I also became very aware that that was not an option. I just had to get it together. I also became keenly aware of my baby...being 6 1/2 months pregnant. I touched my stomach, took a deep breath and remember just knowing I had to stay in control. I didn't cry. I just stood there. I heard Jason softly say, "We need to go right now," and then his wife Leslie came around the corner, told me she would get Addison and take her to her house. I know I told her to turn off the burner on the stove...can't believe that thought ran through my head. I grabbed my purse and just walked out the door and got in Jason's police car. My body was so tense and I was shivering...not just from cold...but from shock as well. I kept asking what happened, but Jason didn't know all the facts and didn't/couldn't say much. In my mind, I thought Keith was dead. It was such a horrifying feeling. I remember thinking that I was going to be a single mom and wondering how I was going to deal with that. I also saw myself in the delivery room getting ready to have Kaden...without Keith. I am amazed at how many thousand thoughts can run through your brain in just seconds.
I was trying to call my mom as we drove wherever we were going. It was busy, but I just kept dialing. By this time, it was all over the news. A lot of people knew that an officer had been shot before I even knew that was what happened. I finally got through to my mom. I remember her saying 'hello' when she answered, but I couldn't get anything to come out of my mouth. Somehow, I muttered that something had happened to Keith and I wanted her to come. Keith's other brother Darin had called my mom and dad and told them to come to the hospital. So...they were walking out the door. But...the best part of my conversation with mom was when she said, "Kris, he is talking. He is alive." I just remember tears streaming down my face at that point and asking, "He is?" She assured me that Darin just told her he was talking. I had no idea what I was walking into, but that was the best news I could have heard.
The ride to the hospital was fast, but seemed like forever. I do remember seeing police cars everywhere, and I remember listening to all of the radio traffic as we drove over, but not really understanding or being able to process it. We pulled up to the emergency room at University Hospital. There were cameras and reporters everywhere. I was whisked inside and taken to a room where several of us sat. I remember Jessica holding my hand. I remember Chelsey getting there. I remember seeing my pastor come in and him praying for me. Then I remember a doctor coming in to explain to us that Keith had been shot in the chest...close range from what they knew...that they were going to be taking him into surgery in the next couple minutes to see what damage was done to his organs, if there was internal bleeding, what the bullet(s) had actually hit. Without coming right out and saying it, he basically told me that I would have a few short minutes to see him and said to tell him that I loved him. He was discreetly letting me know that there was a possibility he would not make it out of surgery.
As I walked into the area where Keith was, our eyes met, and he immediately said, "Babe, I'm okay." We can smile about this now because he thought he was consoling me, but he had no idea what the doctor had just told me. We had no clue what damage was done internally. I kissed him. I hugged him. I held his hand. And...then he was taken away. I was left to sign paperwork saying that he could receive blood if needed. We were then taken to a waiting room full of people. I sat down and....waited...for hours and hours. I know people were praying for me, people introduced themselves to me, people hugged me. I remember the TV being on and seeing pictures of Keith and Dan flash across the screen. It was surreal. How did they get the pictures...some of them I had not even seen...so weird to see your life on a television screen. My favorite time of the 'waiting' was when Addison was brought there. I knew she was with Leslie and I am so grateful she had taken her, but I needed/wanted her as we sat there. She was the closest thing to Keith that I could hold. She wandered around that waiting room completely aloof to the uncertainty of the events. That made me cry.
Over four hours passed and finally a doctor came to say the surgery was over. I was in a daze. I remember him saying he was stable, would be transferred to ICU, and that, at that point, their main concern was infection. It was the wee hours of the morning at that point. I went into see him in ICU but was taken aback by everything. He was still knocked out and had a breathing tube down his throat. There were wires and tubes everywhere. Tears welled up in my eyes and I didn't know if I was supposed to touch him, but I reached out and held his pinky finger. :)
The nurse assured me he would be asleep for several more hours. Keith's dad stayed with him while I (with my amazing sister, Chelsey) quickly went home, took out my contacts, and got a quick shower. I had nothing with me over there and knew that I needed to grab some things. The weird thing was that the gunman was still not found or in custody. It was an eerie feeling. All of the officers were so wonderful to me that night. I actually had one of them come and sit in my kitchen while I took a shower and packed up some things...just a sense of security. And...he drove me and Chelsey back to the hospital as well.
The next couple days were the most painful thing to watch. Keith could not do anything for himself, and everything was totally painful for him. It was simply awful. I slept on an air mattress in another room when I could. So many people brought food, and gift cards and some of the most thoughtful things ever. That was a major blessing in the midst of the craziness. The next few weeks involved celebrating both my and Addison's birthdays in the hospital, celebrations of the smallest things that Keith was able to accomplish...even brushing his teeth, praying against infection that was attacking different areas, and working through many questions and thoughts we had.
Very interesting to relive that day and days that followed. Very thankful that there were days that followed. We found out later that Keith had been shot at a few times, but only hit by one bullet. However, that one bullet did some damage. It hit his liver, intestines, stomach, pancreas and spleen. They actually removed one third of his pancreas and all of his spleen due to the intense damage to them. His heart and lungs were not hit...the doctor still didn't know how it missed them. The days turned into weeks and gradually Keith kept getting better and stronger. The wounds healed but the scars remain to this day...a reminder of the miracle that took place just two years ago.
We stand rejoicing that he is still with us. I love you Keith Broady!
this sweet necklace from all my friends at the 'Wood. 
