Saturday, June 13, 2009

Sorry I'm not here more often

I didn't realize when I started this just how hard it would be. I thought that after 10 years I would find it easier to talk about Bethanie's murder; I was wrong. It was, and remains, the most difficult thing I've ever been through, and it is really no easier today than 10 years ago. I have just gotten better at stuffing my reactions into the corner of my psyche, where no one but those I choose can see. It seems so odd that every time I read about another child being murdered I relive everything again. A man told me about his young son's accidental death the other day, about his reaction when he got the news, and it immediately took me back to that harrowing moment when I got the call about Bethanie. That moment when sound started to dissipate around me and I felt like I was being pulled into some kind of spinning vortex, when my legs gave out and I sat on the floor, wailing at what I'd just been told; begging God to make it not so. It brought back the memory of looking at the fluffy clouds and sunny skies and feeling that it was all wrong. It couldn't be this nice outside, a child had just been murdered. I waited for dark clouds, thunderous claps and the end of the world, but it never came. The sun still shone brightly and the only world that ended that day was Bethanie's.

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