In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forgive and Forget?.”1973566_756373984428670_7210894168049152791_o

Sure it is easy to forgive and forget some things. But to ask me to forgive the murderer of my daughter and forget what he did, I can’t, I won’t. He killed her when she was helping someone. He ran her down and left her body on the side of the road for hours. She was twenty years old, and had a two-year old daughter. He killed a daughter, a sister, and a mother. He is without remorse and has never apologized. I made it my mission to get him to trial, which he avoided for almost five years. He was given a suspended sentence by a worthless judge in Baton Rouge, Louisiana who is known for letting killers walk free. I can’t forgive or forget her either.

Do I let this travesty ruin my life? No. I live my life in memory of her. I do everything that she can no longer do. I will not allow myself to be bitter. I will not allow myself to wallow in the sadness I feel that will never leave me. Do I think of him now that he is walking free without ever serving time for killing my child? Yes, sometimes, but it is best for me not to think about him as I become very agitated over the injustice. I get physically sick, I really do. My health has suffered. It is best not to think of him at all, but that does not mean I have forgotten. It is just the way I have to live, the murderer has left me with that. He left me with a hole in my heart that will be there until I die. If I think of him, like now while writing, I hope someday he will feel the kind of pain he inflicted on all of us who are still grieving her death.

So I think asking someone to forgive and forget could be applied to petty squabbles, or ex-spouses, mean people, friendships that disappoint, bad relationships, anything that you have moved on from. I cannot move on from her murder. I can allow myself to enjoy life, I can relish the beauty that surrounds me here in Colombia, I can feel happiness. But I can never forget her, I can never look at the gorgeous rose blossoming,  the hummingbird drinking nectar, or the butterflies that float by without thinking she is missing this. Her life cut short through the senseless act of selfishness that one man perpetrated. He drove off and left her there dead, he shall never gain my forgiveness.

Asking the Impossible