Serious Post Alert

I have struggled about whether or not to post this....

I can literally count on my two hands how many people I have told this story to... and yet now I am going to tell all of you... as you can imagine since some of my closest friends do not even know this story, I am going out on a limb to write about this... hence my struggle about posting... but I believe this story should be shared...

22 years ago today my father was killed at the age of 39.

Here is his story:

My father decided to go to a friend's party one night. His friend had recently gotten separated from her husband. Apparently at some point during the party the lady's husband showed up at the party -- mad that there were so many people in his driveway and at his house. He barged into the house and started causing a commotion. He was making a huge scene and my father asked him to leave. The guy pulled out a gun and shot my dad point blank. The bullet that hit my father was a hollow point bullet -- one that explodes upon impact. The fragments hit every single one of my father's internal organs. He still managed to somehow walk out to his car, begging for someone to help him, before he fell down and died.

The man who did this only got 3 years in jail. He was convicted of 2nd degree murder and let go for good behavior once he was in jail. Up until a year ago he lived 5 houses down from my grandmother. Everytime I went to see her, I would most likely be forced to drive by his house.

My dad's wallet was stained with his blood when he died and inside of it there is a $20 bill. I thought about for years what I would want to spend that $20 dollars on because it would be symbolic for me that my dad helped me pay for something -- perhaps my college tuition, my wedding dress, an outfit for my first baby -- I haven't spent it yet and I really doubt I ever will... it is too precious a thing for me to ever give up.

My mom has remarried to a wonderful man that has been a great father to me. I have a wonderful family and I am a very lucky person but I still think and miss my "real" dad all the time.

I wonder what my life would be like now if he were still alive. I wonder what sort of things he would have wanted for me -- if I would have made him proud -- if he had a good life even though it was so short lived.

I wonder what it would be like if I ever got the chance to speak to the man who killed him -- what would I say? -- would I grant him forgiveness if he asked? -- does he regret what he did? I used to think about writing him a letter or even stopping by his house but I was way too scared to ever do that... I don't want him to have my return address and I can't even really fathom being that close to him in person.

There are so many question and not really any good answers. I am sure I will always wonder.

Thank you to anyone who actually read any of this.... it was nice to finally be able to share his/our story.