One year ago today, my mother lost her life in a domestic violence situation. I try not to make a habit of saying she was killed. It makes me cringe to say that. I feel like the word kill is such an ugly word. But the truth of the matter is that this whole situation is just ugly and saying she was killed is nothing but the ugly truth.
For reasons unknown to me, her death is still under investigation. Everyone knows what happened, her husband took her life, and he had been abusing her for so long, we all expected to happen. It hurt still beyond words when the moment came and she was gone. I keep saying I just want closure, I just the investigation to end, justice to be served, and for it to be all over. Kristine says that maybe me not knowing what happened in the last minutes of her life are a form of closure for me. I am not okay with that answer right now, maybe one day I will be.
I’m pretty proud of myself for being able to “keep it” together today. I’ve not shed one tear today. Granted its only 1:00, so the day is still young. Truth is I’m not okay today; I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping a wall up and keeping my emotions in check. I can’t sit here and say that I’ve forgiven myself for walking away from her when I did. Sometimes I hate myself for not being there for her. Could I have saved her? I don’t know. I try not to spend my days dwelling on the woulda, coulda, shoulda, but it still crosses my mind frequently.
I can’t sit here and say I’ve forgiven him either for what he has done, and I truly hate him. Hate is another ugly word, isn’t it? Hate and anger go hand in hand. Not only do I hate him, I am still very angry at him. He killed my mother 5 days before her birthday; he took away her precious life. He took away her watching my nephew grow up, or the chance to see her children get married, or the opportunity to smell another flower, see another sunset, laugh at a joke, everything. He took the opportunity away for her and I to ever have another chance at a relationship. All that we take for granted in our lives, he took that away from her. She told me numerous times that he loved her. He even told me he loved her so much. One phone call with him, I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him if he had any kind of love for my mother, he would not be putting his hands on her. And yet he continued to abuse her till the very end. One day the anger and hate will fade away and I’ll be able to say honestly that I’ve forgive him, but now I can’t. It’s too fresh in my mind.
I changed my picture on Facebook to a purple ribbon. October is Domestic Violence Month and since her anniversary is today, I decided to keep that picture up till November 1st to not only honor my mother, but to spread domestic violence awareness. I am also wearing a purple ribbon today on my shirt at work for my mom. I wanted to do something for her and that is what I came up with. I was giving $ to the Michigan Coalition against Domestic Violence, but had to stop lately due to finances. She can still be remembered, with or without money.
I can’t stress enough that if you are being abused or you know someone being abused to get the proper help. There are so many ways to get help, if you just seek it out. Women who think a man loves them by abusing them, they think that nothing will ever happen to them, and they don’t seek help will probably end up like my mother with her life taken from her all too fast. I don’t want someone else to be a statistic; my mother is hard enough to swallow.
I miss her desperately, just knowing she’s not around gives me an empty feeling.