I didn’t choose to be a member of the Thin Blue Line, it chose me. Growing up my father was a proud United States Army veteran who supported our men and women in blue. As an adult, I am choosing to share my life with a man who is a kind, honest upstanding citizen. A man who also happens to be a police officer.

We are living in a world where men and women are performing a career that is a calling, a thankless job that could take their lives at any moment. Our mainstream media is constantly villainizing our police officers. There are the black sheep in every profession but cop-bashing, especially on social media, is a great injustice to the whole force and their families. We often forget that our police have a job to do, rain or shine, and they are at our beck and call 24 hours a day. What many refuse to see is all the good our men and women in blue do. 

My Dad was a proud United States Army veteran who worked two jobs much of his life. He had a strong work ethic and bled blue. Towards the end of my father’s life it was difficult for him to leave the house. One of his last outings was when he proudly stood in the courthouse as my better half took his oath to serve and protect. That August afternoon my Dad posted on his Facebook page, “Proud moment in our family, just witnessed my future son in law take an oath to serve and protect as Lisa stood by his side.”  

On January 17, 2016 my Dad passed after a long battle with Stage IV base of the tongue cancer. His funeral was four days later. Friends and family tell me it was a beautiful funeral. For me it was like an out of body experience. When I saw my father’s lifeless body I cried enough tears to fill the Hoover Dam. Family viewing time ended and the room began to fill with countless guests. As I sat next to my mother I felt like a Jack in the box getting up and down to hug people. People with tears brimming in their eyes. Grown men weeping over the loss of a great friend. I began to see the massive impact my father had on so many people, some people I never even met.

As I scanned the room, I began to feel a great sense of pride. I realized these people drove from near and far to pay respects to my father. A four hour car ride to say your final goodbyes to a friend is nothing short of magnificent. These people loved my father and were taking time out of their busy lives to pay their respects and offer condolences to Al’s girls.

What happened next was truly amazing. I was making my way to the ladies room and I saw a group of uniformed police officers. Please understand I felt like a Clydesdale horse walking around with blinders on. I walked directly into the officer and he proceeded to hug me and offer me his condolences. Wait what?  I rubbed my eyes and realized that this officer was one of my boyfriend’s officers. These men all took time out of their busy schedules to drive to headquarters, put their uniforms on and then drive another hour to my father’s wake. One by one each officer walked to my mother then my father’s casket and paid their respects. I was overcome with gratitude and pride, I watched the entire room grow silent and observe a single file of uniformed police officers pay their final respects to my Dad. I was moved to tears of pride.

It was at that time I was positive I felt my father touch my shoulder. I know he was proud.

The outpouring of love and grief was apparent throughout the evening and into the burial the next day. My father had an amazing send off, complete with The NJ State Police guiding our procession to the cemetery (special thanks to my brother in law) and the United States Army playing Taps at my father’s grave commemorating his service.

These are days that I will never forget. They were the saddest days of my life, but they also opened my eyes to the kindness of others. Kindness that police officers, some of whom my Dad never met gave my family. Kindness that was given to us during a time when we had nothing to offer. 

You never forget the people who pay their respects to a deceased loved one. I will never forget the officers who came in full uniform to pay their final respects to my Dad and give my father a hero’s send off. I hope their behavior will help me to display acts of kindness towards others and remember that under the uniform is someone’s loved one performing a tireless job. 

To our men and women in blue, your job is incredibly exhausting and demanding, you deserve to know that your work is appreciated. You have made a difference in countless lives. You have made a difference in my life. Thank you.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Lisa Ingrassia

Lisa is the Director of Events at Zenith Marketing Group, an insurance brokerage firm located in Freehold, NJ. She is passionate about sharing her father’s journey with cancer and bringing attention the difficult path a caregiver must walk. She has written guest articles for the National Foundation of Swallowing Disorders, The Mighty & Her View From Home. She is also a guest blogger for The Huffington Post. Fun fact: She’s obsessed with her Boston terrier Diesel and loves the color blue.

Mom Showed Me What It Means to Be a Caregiver

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Grown woman with her mother smiling, color photo

My mother is an extraordinary woman. She inspires me to be a better person. She has spent seven years selflessly caring for my father after a horrific battle with Stage IV tongue cancer. During this time she would laugh with me, cry with me, and express her fears and frustrations with me. My mother is the definition of strength and courage while surrounded by heartbreak and human suffering. During the time my mother was taking care of my father she had her own health issues. Her colon perforated in 2012 making her critically ill. It’s nothing short of a miracle...

Keep Reading

Mom May Never See Our Home, but Her Love Lives Here

In: Grief, Loss
Cute and quaint house, color photo

To the average person, it was a typical Wisconsin Friday in October—wet, dreary, and a bit nippy. To my wife and me, it was a day of both elation and sadness. We put in an offer on a house we both loved. My wife spotted it a few days beforehand; we toured it alongside a couple of other options, and just knew it was the one. And we did it without our mothers. Her mother died seven and a half years before. At the end of October was the three-year anniversary of my mother’s death. There’s something to be said...

Keep Reading

This is How to Support Miscarriage Moms

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman with arm around another woman sitting in field

When you hear the term miscarriage, what do you think? My initial thought was the loss of an unborn child, but have you ever really wondered what truly happens when you are having a miscarriage? Our first miscarriage occurred immediately after our wedding in 2019, we had a chemical pregnancy after conceiving while on our honeymoon. This means we had a positive pregnancy test, but by the time we got to our OB/GYN, I had the heaviest period of my life, resulting in a negative serum pregnancy test. That was hard enough to go through but was nothing compared to...

Keep Reading

To the Family with a Loved One in Jail

In: Grief, Living
Woman with head in hands

At first, I wanted to hide. I didn’t want to face people anywhere, not at the grocery store, not at work, not even at church. I was ashamed, hurt, and humiliated. It was after that day not so long ago when one of my sisters called me, sobbing so hard I could barely understand the awful message she was telling me. He’s been arrested, she was saying. We need to go tell Mom. Oh, God, no. Please, please, no. How can this even be real? But it was real. RELATED: Tragedy Changes You, But it Doesn’t Have To Ruin You...

Keep Reading

My Daddy Is In the Arms of Jesus

In: Grief, Loss
Grown daughter walking with older father

My daddy went home to the arms of Jesus just a few short days before Christmas. My family was given the greatest gift of time with him individually to speak the words they needed him to hear and to listen to the words he wanted to say. It was a gift we are beyond grateful for because we know not everyone has that time with their loved ones before they go, especially now. So, yes, I am grateful, but I miss him. I awoke this morning with a dance happening in my heart. The dance of grief and joy. I...

Keep Reading

Even Though You Left Too Soon, You Gave Me Hope

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Early sonogram image

This was the fifth time I’d seen those two pink lines letting me know that a baby was on the way, but I only had one child to show for it, so I’d learned to damper my happiness and excitement. Each miscarriage brought its own unique flavor—one was marked by anxiety, another anger, deep sadness, and then apathy. I’d learned not to get too close to a pregnancy, but this time I leaned into it in a way I hadn’t before. There was a tender and growing elation, and I felt immediate love and gratitude. Sure, there was no telling...

Keep Reading

We Picked up Our Daughter’s Ashes Yesterday

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mother holding decorative urn in baby's room, color photo

We picked up her ashes yesterday . . . our daughter’s ashes. Though the funeral home was only about an hour away, the trip felt like an eternity. I stared blankly out the window for most of the drive, somewhat calmed by the cocktail of medications I had been placed on and was brought back to reality only by the occasional pain searing through my abdomen. When we arrived, the parking lot was completely empty. Snow lined the edges of the lot, and the sun shone all too brightly. We had assumed the funeral director would be there to greet...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Prayer I Ever Prayed

In: Cancer, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Bald-headed little girl in hospital bed with her mama, color photo

Trigger warning: Child loss I had a plan for summertime fun with my children. We had just returned from a week-long road trip to the Grand Canyon. I intentionally planned to fill the rest of the summer with activities that would chase away boredom. Craft supplies had been purchased, day trips had been planned, and we were just beginning a week of Vacation Bible School. Excitement was in the air! Yet a tiny nagging fear kept resurfacing: Was there something wrong with my 2-year-old? Ever since she turned two back in the fall, she had become fussy. Our healthy, happy...

Keep Reading

My Mom Passed away and I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore

In: Grief, Loss
Mother and daughter on a carousel ride, older color photo

For the last sixteen months of her life, I was one of my mother’s primary caregivers, and now that she’s gone, I feel lost. My beautiful, strong, hilarious, and fun-loving mom not only survived but thrived after a heart attack and open-heart surgery at age 67. So 10 years later, we were all surprised to learn that the aortic aneurysm with which she had lived for over a decade had expanded to dangerous territory. We were told she would soon die without another risky open-heart surgery. The one thing my mother feared more than going into surgery was death. Her...

Keep Reading

Dear Dad, I Pray for Our Healing

In: Faith, Grief, Grown Children
Back shot of woman on bench alone

You are on my mind today. But that’s not unusual. It’s crazy how after 13 years, it doesn’t feel that long since I last saw you. It’s also crazy that I spend far less time thinking about that final day and how awful it was and spend the majority of the time replaying the good memories from all the years before it. But even in the comfort of remembering, I know I made the right decision. Even now, 13 years later, the mix of happy times with the most confusing and painful moments leaves me grasping for answers I have...

Keep Reading