Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
My mom was married 23 years to a man that was accepted and loved by my family. They had had their ups and downs, but what relationship doesn't. In August 2011, I noticed my mom didn't call me as…Continue
Started by Amie Mar 16, 2012.
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How can this nightmare get any worse? Well, I found out this week. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it would happen, it was really just a matter of time. The family of my mom's abuser and subsequent murderer have begun to blame the victim. My heart is aching. How could anyone think that she deserves to accept a portion of the blame. I have heard/read several comments like "well, she stayed" and "she had the affair". I have declined to comment publicly or privately regarding this matter with them, but I feel safe here. These statement are outrageous. He took her life, nothing else matters. Everything before and after the moment he pulled the trigger are irrelevant. I can't begin to tell you how ignorant I beleive they are. Nothing she ever did warranted killing her. They are trying to make a martyr out of a monster. It makes me sick to my stomach. How could you even try to justify taking a live. There are an endless flurry of mean spiteful things I want to say to them, but I don't. I will not be like them.
Disclaimer: please know that I mean no disrespect, I don't mean to belittle anyone's grief. I simply need to vent and this provides me that outlet without hurting the feelings of those I love. He killed Tammy, he took her life. I struggle with that everyday. I think of who she was, I miss her laugh, her jokes/lies, her over the top dramatic behaviors. This list could go on and on. She was a beautiful and wonderful person, but no without her faults. I can get up every morning missing Tammy, dealing with Tammy's estate, talking about Tammy. To everyone she was Tammy (my daughter, Tammy; my sister Tammy; my friend Tammy). I don't understand how someone could have known Tammy, and her unbelievably big heart and taken her life. That makes no sense to me. I look around my family and see parts of Tammy throughout, from my grandma, aunts and uncles, and numerous nieces and nephews.
However, I can't find a trace of my mommy! It is inconceivable to me that he could kill my mommy, I can't even bring myself to utter the words. I can not process that pain, it too much to bare, so I put my mommy in a box and bury it all way down deep. This is what I have to do in order to get out of bed in the morning.
Tammy was a person, my mommy was perfection. That's why she is mine, all mine. This pain is mine, all mine. Tammy was one in a million, my mommy was the only one.
How could anyone imply to me that their pain is greater than mine. How dare those words trickle from your lips.
Don't tell that everything happens for a reason or that this was part of God's plan. My mom's murder was committed by a man of his own free will. It was cold and heartless. My mom is no longer with me because of his choice, not becuase she became ill, or was involved in an accident. She was taken from me. It was NOT her time.
I know who the monster in this story is, there is no doubt in my mind. However, I also know that there were people involved that continued to throw gas on the fire. No, they didn't make that final, permanent choice, but they did watch as the situation burned out of control.
I've had indivduals tell me over the past few months since her murder that, "I knew something bad was going to happen." I can't help but wonder, why didn't you do something.
He was drinking and becoming increasingly more controlling. On a regular basis these people would drive by her house and follow her, just so they could "report" anything back to him.
How can these same people act like they were surprised when he did this? They knew and they were contributing factors. These things don't negate his action, but honestly it gives me another place to direct my anger.
I couldn't believe that a couple of them asked for an item, gift that they had given her back. Well, I felt that a better place for those items was on the cement patio, so I dropped them from a second floor window.
You were not a mom's friend. You didn't care about her and you didn't truely matter to her. She's mine. I know there are people that cared about my mom, but I don't care.
Maybe I'm self-centered, but she's mine. This is my loss. I refuse to share any of her with anyone else. They're sad for what happened, but they will go on. This hasn't disrupted their lives. I'm lost without her.
Sometimes I think if I close my eyes and then open them really fast I'll see a glimpse of her. I miss her so very much everyday.
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