I was four and a half when my father committed suicide/was murdered. To this day, my memories are crystal clear, right down to “that woman” cleaning up blood with the mop and bucket, smells, colors, textures, and most of all, the 40 minutes I was with my dad, I learned for sure at 21 after seeing the police report, that my memories are accurate. At the time, Both sides of the family's feelings were protected by the story the Police told them. They did nothing to help me, and for years, Dad’s family barely saw us, too much conflict.
Ladies, this podcast and the cruel, brutal reality some reveal here are ridiculous. I was told the best chance for justice is a deathbed confession from this lady. At 50, I still have a younger sister and brother to protect. It feels best to let it be. Not feeling alone finally, at 50, is a beautiful awakening, albeit painful. I have to wonder if there is a way to start a group for kids who were once forced to spend time with a dying/dead parent, alone, while they fired and with their bodies. It sounds gruesome, but this little girl in me who was forced to go to the to suppress my memories, given no real help until college, has found a home here where they may not be my story, but some episodes hit close to home.
