A Melancholy Anniversary

Today marked the eighth month anniversary of my mother’s murder. Each month this surprises me, as if I cannot believe that yet another full month has passed by. Still, after all this time, it feels insane that she is really gone. I still keep expecting, keep hoping, for her to come back, to pop back into my life. I want to forget that this tragedy ever happened.
This unbelieving is common to those suffering from grief. I imagine it is even more common to those of us who have had our loved ones taken in such a brutal, tragic and sudden way.


And this week, this day even, has still been spent doing my best to honor her. I have been a flurry of activity over the past few weeks (and my mess of a desk at work is my proof) doing everything I can possibly do to help the local shelter. To share information about domestic violence and spread awareness on a broader scale about this issue that has left such a gaping hole in my life.


And yet, a day like today reminds me that nothing can bring her back. Nothing that I am doing can save her. I hope it will save others, but no matter what, I can’t go back in time and get my Mama back.

So for all the kids out there who still have their parents but risk losing them in the same way I do, learn the signs of domestic violence. Learn the signs of an abusive relationship potentially turning lethal. Support your local women’s shelters through donations and your time. Use your voting power in November to vote for people who will fight for this issue. Encourage your local government and law enforcement to become more educated on this issue and become more educated yourself. There is still time to save others, but once they’re gone, we can’t do anything to bring them back.

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