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 often anymore, but life gets busy. I knew that they had been arguing a lot more and his drinking had increased since he retired.
Three days before Christmas 2011 I was blindsided by a phone call from one of her neighbors informing the police were there and two people were dead inside the home. For whatever reason I never thought, "what happened?" The first thing I screamed, "he killed my mommy!" I knew immediately it was him without any indication of violence.
Over the next couple of weeks I learned so much more than I ever wanted to know. I can't believe me mom lived the last six months of her life in torment from the man she loved most of her live.
She was only 47. We were only 15 years apart, I thought she would be the person I would grow old with as silly as that sounds. She was the one constant in my live.
He had physically, verbally, and emotionally abused her. She was not allowed to talk to me, which in hind-sight explains why she started only called me from work.
The detective did a thurough investigation dispite already knowing it was a murder-suicide. He uncovered pictures of mom taken weeks before her murder of her black eye and many bruises. Those pictures haunt my dreams. The look on her face, she looked so ashamed.
My fears were that she had feared for her life and was running from him when he shot her. That was not the case. He was a coward. She was finishing her bedtime routine, in her pj's. She was at the bathroom sink, when he quietly walked up behind her and shot her from 3-4 feet away.
He immediately walked into another room, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I had hoped that he had hestitated and that death was not instant. I wanted to believe that he had laid there in pain and with the knowledge of what he had done to her.
Alas, that was not the case. He died instantly. It was my mom who had lived for "seconds to minutes". The thought that she had struggled or lived in pain for any period of time eats me up inside.
Most days I ignore what has happened, I ignore that my mom is gone. I listen to old voicemails from her and think I'll call her back in a little bit. I can't face life without her.
I want the world to know what he did to her and I want everyone to hate him as much I do. I don't understand how anyone can think of him fondly. He was murderer, that nulifies anything else he ever did. This one act is so permanent that it voids out the rest of his existence to me. I become very angry with his children/family when they think of him in a favorable way. I keep my distance in order to avoid any conflict with them. I try very hard to remind myself that they did nothing wrong, he is the one I hate.
I don't feel these emotions subsiding. Everyday I am numb and if I'm not numb then I'm angry or inconsolable. It's been almost three months and I just don't know where to go from here. I don't want this to define me, but just getting out of bed in the morning takes all of my energy. Not much seems important anymore. No, I would never think of hurting myself, I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone. I'm just lost without my compass.
