It's already starting. [View all]

It's July. On 06Jul1980, my beautiful daughter was born. On 19Jul2001, she was killed. This is the year when I will have been without her as long as I had her, and it's turning me into a blubbering pile of goo.

I had counseling today and cried and cried. My counselor told me about a memorial garden in Raleigh and I arranged for a brick to be placed in her name. Cried and cried to the advocate I spoke to. She was great.

July has never been a good month for me mentally and psychologically since Bekah died. It consumes too much of my thoughts and overtakes my feelings. I guess I would say it's just the murder month and it always will be. No matter how strongly I believe that Bekah is with me and that I will see her when I die. No matter how much time has passed since the crime.

We go back to the beginning of the grief, and I must do now what I worked so, so hard to do then: lean into it. Here's a poem I wrote then, it's maybe my favorite of all the many poems I wrote then.

today’s paean to why

There's like a why ocean,
from which waves of why
either tease or soak
my grief-addled mind.
During why's high tide,
nearly drowned in why,
The world abounds with why
All I hear is the sound of why
If it tells me it will have to kill me

When why recedes it is still a mystery
Still cannot know it
while I must respect its immense power over me
Riptides of why swamp me regularly
when I'm rolled crazily around in why,
Powerless to dive away from why
Useless to try dominating why.

On the island why I stop to see
How perseverance can still abide in me
On the mainland why I walk the beach
Hope defying why, the why of life
Is easy to see
By my side or inside of me,
Your spirit your love accompanies
With the energy of a wave
that embodies a natural eternity.


https://www.lapdonline.org/newsroom/hit-and-run-suspect-captured/