Writing the Hard Things

I decided to kill two birds with one stone here. I get to make a new blog post AND procrastinate!

Listen, I like writing, I really, really do.

I got up this morning and simply journaled for an hour. Then I was reminded that I have a letter to write and I am NOT looking forward to it. 

I haven't posted much about it here, but if you know me and have followed me for a while, you know that my brother was murdered in December of 2019. 

I have had siblings pass away before. When I was 10, I had a brother that was stillborn. When I was in college, an older half-sister (that I had met all of once when I was in middle school) died by suicide. Both were really hard experiences.

But to have a brother that I had lived with for 30 years in such a violent and tragic way really shook me to my core. It's still hard to think about. Which I do, often. 

Unfortunately, it comes up even more often because my parents chose to be involved with the court case against his murderer.

First of all, this case was very drawn out because it happened right before the world shut down and had to adjust for the Rona. 

To be honest, in a way, it was a huge blessing for me that the world had to shut down with me. I wasn't really functioning yet. Staying home to cry all day was incredibly helpful.

It wasn't helpful in that this court case got pushed back time and again. 

So by the time she was finally convicted in 2021, we were able to find some solace and reprieve.

But not much.

She is already up for parole. 

For the murder of my brother. 

Because she and her family bullied the one witness into not testifying in court. The poor woman who witnessed all of this said she gave the lawyers everything they needed and would not appear in court.

So it became a game of he said, she said. And she got off ridiculously easy. 

The point of this blogpost was to try and ease me into the right headspace, but it didn't help. I've cried writing this already. 

I really don't want to write this letter, but I want the letter to be written.

Guess I ought to get it over with and see if any of the rest of my day is salvageable, or if I'll be curled up in a cocoon bawling my eyes out.