I sent my son, Kevin, to his third tour of duty in Afghanistan to fight for Iraqi Freedom, only to lose my other son, Kenneth D. Mitchell, Jr., a week later in a free country. My life changed and became something I had never known before.
I kept trying to find my new norm and had to keep backtracking because I could not attain it.
Kenneth being the center of our family was the one who always brought everyone together with a barbecue, always at my house.
That has changed. The memory can be too much at times for others to embrace without the pain of knowing what is not present in our day. His sons, who were 8 and 6, and one born 30 days after his death, long for what they had — he was the custodial parent. They wish their dad who put them in football could give them a that-a-boy at the end of the game. Someone to be proud, like the other fathers, or just simply the dad they could cry on his shoulder. That will no longer be realized for them, their trying moments are their own. They are now 19, 21 and 13.
However, they know that family is everything. Tyler, John, and Mykhi. I submit this on behalf of my son’s sons. What they wear on the wristbands when they play football, “We do it for you Dad.”
Miss You, Love You,
Tyler, John, and Mykhi