One Year Later
"I'd like to welcome everybody to the first annual Stephen McKinnie Memorial Baseball Game!" my mother announces.
I watch with pride as she stands on the pitcher's mound at Truist Park in front of an almost sold-out crowd, microphone in hand and a forced smile on her face. She's never been comfortable being the center of attention. That was always my father's job.
"Stephen McKinnie was a neighbor to many and a pillar in his community. He was also, more importantly, a friend, a brother, an amazing father to his two sons, Cole and Greyson, and my husband and best friend," she continues, stopping when she begins to get choked up. "We met when we were in college and it was love at first sight – at least for him it was. It took me a little while longer to give in, but like everything else in his life, he worked at it until he succeeded, and before I knew it, I was head over heels for him. We moved to South Grove, North Carolina soon after we graduated. I became a teacher at a local elementary school and he started McKinnie Construction." She quickly wipes underneath her eyes. "We had our first son, Cole, three years after moving to South Grove and six years later we welcomed Greyson into our family. Though things weren't always perfect, Stephen always made sure we were safe, and happy, and taken care of. I couldn't have asked for a better person to build my family with."
Delaney squeezes my hand and rests her chin on my bicep, looking up at me from underneath her long, thick eyelashes. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah." I lean forward and kiss her forehead softly. "I'm good."
"Four years ago, Stephen was diagnosed with Stage 3 prostate cancer. He had surgery and did the required chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and six months later we were lucky enough to find out he was in remission. He was doing well, almost completely back to normal, but then we got the news that it had returned and this time it was all throughout his body. His organs, his spine, and eventually, his brain. The initial diagnosis gave him three to six months, but Stephen being Stephen, he beat those odds and lasted eight months, finally succumbing to his disease last March. He never complained. He never blamed anyone. He was able to find the light on even the darkest day and he never, not once, gave up. He was a fighter up until the moment he took his very last breath."
I try to discreetly wipe my eyes, but Delaney feels my movement and knows me well enough to know that whenever anyone talks about my father I get emotional. She doesn't say anything. She simply wraps her other hand around my arm and rests her head on me.
"One of Stephen's greatest joys in life was watching his son, Greyson, play baseball. It didn't matter if it was at the little league or high school level, or when he made it to the pros, or if they were simply playing a game of catch in the middle of the street. He was happy to be a part of his life in that way and he was so proud of all of Greyson's accomplishments. Every single one of them." She looks at me and smiles. "Thanks to Greyson and all of the friends we have here today, and the kind people here at Truist Park, we are able to throw the first of many baseball games in Stephen's memory. All of today's ticket sales and donations are going to prostate cancer research. My family's hope is that we can help raise money to find a cure for this horrible disease so that no one ever has to go through it again. Thank you all so much for being here today. My family and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. Let's have some fun today, okay?"
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