Post by belmont34 on Aug 23, 2007 9:29:32 GMT -5
My father was murdered 3 years ago. His case remains unsolved.
I remember thinking at the funeral. He's dead. Who cares if they catch the killer. He's dead. No justice will change the fact that he is buried in the ground.
For a time i tried to help my brother and my mother and my sister. I thought helping them would bring us closer and that closeness would ease my own pain. But, nothing changes the root of the problem: My father is dead. He is no more. He is buried in the ground. And to help someone else who wishes for help...but not your help...and who can't help you back because they are looking for help (not your help) is Exausting...like two people running side by side chasing the end of the world. The chase is endless and you both get tired.
So, now it's time to focus on me.
I have two lives. Before my dad died and after. I think what has happened is that i embraced the truth of this too soon...that a crime can be committed and the goal of surviving the murder of a loved one was to survive and continue to live. I have survived. I have soldered on. Recently i was married. I have a new job. I changed cities to be close to my family. But is this enough? A woman once told me that to not carry on would mean that the killer would kill more then one person in your family. So i moved forward as best i could. But, i think carrying on--and not finding something bigger or finding the good out of this is not enough. It seems like a let down to just keep alive and pour my own energy into surviving. Into creating a life for myself...
Prior to this experience. I drempt that i was the type of person who would fight to create change. Chain myself up at the police station until there is an answer to who did this. Find the killer myself and wring his neck with my bare hands. My dream self is the type of person who would retrain-and join the police force in Arizona and become a blood hound..and catch that murder...But, alas, that is my dream self. My real self is that I did none of those things. My father's case is cold. My mother lives alone. My brother focuses on work. My sister focus on her family. We love each other. We are not close. We are not distant. We just are.
I am a playwright. I wanted to write a play about this. But, even my screen on my computer is blank. Because my reality of what happens after a loved one has been murdered is....
You take a deep breath and you keep moving forward with your life so that the killer's won't get you too. You survive news papers. You survive the TV. You survive people asking you again and again: did they catch the murder. You move forward and continue. But, somehow during this process I hardened. Sometimes, I think that if the entire world fell apart i would be left standing like a statue. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. But it is what has happened to me. No matter what happens i will remain upright. It's a good thing to know. But, the question is upright enough?
I am not even sure why i am writing this. Why i am writing here. But, I thought i would. Perhaps, I want to know what others have done....to surive...and if what i did was the best thing...or did i chose the easy way out? Will i one day look back on my life. and feel guilt for just accepting reality as it was..and not forcing the police to do more? Not forcing my family to become closer....instead...i combined iron will with impotence.
I know people will tell me to get therapy..and i am in therapy. So, that comment is what i call a duh comment.
J.
I remember thinking at the funeral. He's dead. Who cares if they catch the killer. He's dead. No justice will change the fact that he is buried in the ground.
For a time i tried to help my brother and my mother and my sister. I thought helping them would bring us closer and that closeness would ease my own pain. But, nothing changes the root of the problem: My father is dead. He is no more. He is buried in the ground. And to help someone else who wishes for help...but not your help...and who can't help you back because they are looking for help (not your help) is Exausting...like two people running side by side chasing the end of the world. The chase is endless and you both get tired.
So, now it's time to focus on me.
I have two lives. Before my dad died and after. I think what has happened is that i embraced the truth of this too soon...that a crime can be committed and the goal of surviving the murder of a loved one was to survive and continue to live. I have survived. I have soldered on. Recently i was married. I have a new job. I changed cities to be close to my family. But is this enough? A woman once told me that to not carry on would mean that the killer would kill more then one person in your family. So i moved forward as best i could. But, i think carrying on--and not finding something bigger or finding the good out of this is not enough. It seems like a let down to just keep alive and pour my own energy into surviving. Into creating a life for myself...
Prior to this experience. I drempt that i was the type of person who would fight to create change. Chain myself up at the police station until there is an answer to who did this. Find the killer myself and wring his neck with my bare hands. My dream self is the type of person who would retrain-and join the police force in Arizona and become a blood hound..and catch that murder...But, alas, that is my dream self. My real self is that I did none of those things. My father's case is cold. My mother lives alone. My brother focuses on work. My sister focus on her family. We love each other. We are not close. We are not distant. We just are.
I am a playwright. I wanted to write a play about this. But, even my screen on my computer is blank. Because my reality of what happens after a loved one has been murdered is....
You take a deep breath and you keep moving forward with your life so that the killer's won't get you too. You survive news papers. You survive the TV. You survive people asking you again and again: did they catch the murder. You move forward and continue. But, somehow during this process I hardened. Sometimes, I think that if the entire world fell apart i would be left standing like a statue. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. But it is what has happened to me. No matter what happens i will remain upright. It's a good thing to know. But, the question is upright enough?
I am not even sure why i am writing this. Why i am writing here. But, I thought i would. Perhaps, I want to know what others have done....to surive...and if what i did was the best thing...or did i chose the easy way out? Will i one day look back on my life. and feel guilt for just accepting reality as it was..and not forcing the police to do more? Not forcing my family to become closer....instead...i combined iron will with impotence.
I know people will tell me to get therapy..and i am in therapy. So, that comment is what i call a duh comment.
J.