Needing some blogging therapy
It's been so long since I wrote here that I doubt anyone reads anymore, but I need to pour out some thoughts and writing is the most cathartic release for me.
September 27, 2008. A day that changed our world forever. My brother's daughter, my beloved niece Emily, was brutally attacked and murdered while she was out for a walk in the trees that she loved on a sunny afternoon.
Emily was one of those precious children who makes you smile every time you think of her. A couple years ago, I stayed in her bedroom while I was out visiting her family and my mum for Thanksgiving. I'd always thought Emily was adorable -- blonde, tenderhearted, musically gifted, smart, obedient, gentle. And Emily, like me, loved animals. Maybe it was because I was in her room, seeing pictures of things that she loved on her walls, that I felt a special love for her. We talked about her music and we talked about animals. I was delighted to see her growing into a young woman who seemed comfortable in her own skin.
In August this year, we had a reunion of our immediate family. I think we were all amazed by Emily that weekend. She was so tall, so beautiful. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was comfortable with the adults and was helpful with the little ones. It was obvious that she loved her family -- her parents and her sisters (her brother was at camp, so he wasn't with us). She spoke so easily with her parents. I even took a picture of her talking to her mom because I wanted to always have a snapshot of that comfortable, friendly relationship.
When we gathered on the front steps for a family picture, it was Emily who set up the camera for the big picture. She was responsible and she was a great photographer, so it didn't faze any of us that a 14-year-old was taking the most important picture. She just jumped right in there and did it. And it looked like she was having so much fun.
How could we have known that we would never see her again.
Now what? How do her parents go on? Her little sisters? Her brother who was also a friend? How can we who have known and loved her for 14 years not watch her become a happy wife and mother, not hear her play the violin at her Grandma's next birthday, not enjoy another video on Facebook of her playing the piano?
How can the man who beat her and choked her and left her on the pathway be out there still? Is he enjoying a cold one with friends, listening to his favorite tunes right now? Going to work, laughing with his family? Was he at the funeral? Is he still in Edson or is he here, 6 hours up the Yellowhead highway, looking for someone else to kill?
Emily loved Jesus. That's a good thing. We have to believe she is happy now, in His presence. There's comfort in that. I know she sure wasn't in that body anymore that was laying in that room on Thursday night, so beautiful and so silent. Her hair. Agh. Just looking at her beautiful hair as she was laying there. Her lovely hands. The WASTE of it all. It just hurts so much to think of the waste of that beauty, that talent, that knowledge, that lovely, lovely girl.
And the pain. Her pain. The pain of her parents that is just beginning. It's too much.
What can we do, those of us who love her parents and her siblings? How can we help to share the pain so it doesn't overwhelm them?
This happens every day somewhere in the world. You'd think someone would have some magical answer by now how to go on. But there is no answer because it's too insanely wrong.
September 27, 2008. A day that changed our world forever. My brother's daughter, my beloved niece Emily, was brutally attacked and murdered while she was out for a walk in the trees that she loved on a sunny afternoon.
Emily was one of those precious children who makes you smile every time you think of her. A couple years ago, I stayed in her bedroom while I was out visiting her family and my mum for Thanksgiving. I'd always thought Emily was adorable -- blonde, tenderhearted, musically gifted, smart, obedient, gentle. And Emily, like me, loved animals. Maybe it was because I was in her room, seeing pictures of things that she loved on her walls, that I felt a special love for her. We talked about her music and we talked about animals. I was delighted to see her growing into a young woman who seemed comfortable in her own skin.
In August this year, we had a reunion of our immediate family. I think we were all amazed by Emily that weekend. She was so tall, so beautiful. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was comfortable with the adults and was helpful with the little ones. It was obvious that she loved her family -- her parents and her sisters (her brother was at camp, so he wasn't with us). She spoke so easily with her parents. I even took a picture of her talking to her mom because I wanted to always have a snapshot of that comfortable, friendly relationship.
When we gathered on the front steps for a family picture, it was Emily who set up the camera for the big picture. She was responsible and she was a great photographer, so it didn't faze any of us that a 14-year-old was taking the most important picture. She just jumped right in there and did it. And it looked like she was having so much fun.
How could we have known that we would never see her again.
Now what? How do her parents go on? Her little sisters? Her brother who was also a friend? How can we who have known and loved her for 14 years not watch her become a happy wife and mother, not hear her play the violin at her Grandma's next birthday, not enjoy another video on Facebook of her playing the piano?
How can the man who beat her and choked her and left her on the pathway be out there still? Is he enjoying a cold one with friends, listening to his favorite tunes right now? Going to work, laughing with his family? Was he at the funeral? Is he still in Edson or is he here, 6 hours up the Yellowhead highway, looking for someone else to kill?
Emily loved Jesus. That's a good thing. We have to believe she is happy now, in His presence. There's comfort in that. I know she sure wasn't in that body anymore that was laying in that room on Thursday night, so beautiful and so silent. Her hair. Agh. Just looking at her beautiful hair as she was laying there. Her lovely hands. The WASTE of it all. It just hurts so much to think of the waste of that beauty, that talent, that knowledge, that lovely, lovely girl.
And the pain. Her pain. The pain of her parents that is just beginning. It's too much.
What can we do, those of us who love her parents and her siblings? How can we help to share the pain so it doesn't overwhelm them?
This happens every day somewhere in the world. You'd think someone would have some magical answer by now how to go on. But there is no answer because it's too insanely wrong.
posted by ruthieB | 9:38 PM
5 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
As usual, you have taken my, and others' whirling thoughts and feeling and put them so succinctly into organized, clear thoughts.
You've said it all, my talented sis. Long may you write!
Love ya,
Rene
Well said. We should put this in a card. I spoke with our brother yesterday and they are taking it one day at a time. Everytime I get overwhelmed with the pain of it all I remember that they must feel as we do times about a million. God will give them strength but they are also letting themselves mourn. Thanks sis. DJ
Wow - well said! Your words brought to life the mess in my brain left by this horrible tragedy...Thank you.
Love you,
Mandy
This gave me goosebumps. When I think about how I would feel if it had happened to my niece, or my daughter, I just can't imagine what it's like for you guys. I'm so sorry.
Post a Comment
<< Home