Tuesday, February 22, 2011

still unable to understand two years later

Tomorrow (Wednesday) it will be two years since my friend Lori killed her own 17-month old son.

When I first heard the news on February 24, 2009, I went into the mode of trying to understand. This started (for me) with a process of elimination. Was there any chance someone else had done it? No. Was it an accident? No. What was the weapon used? They couldn't say. Her husband didn't know (at first) and the police and lawyers had to be careful about the investigation. All the newspaper said was that there was blunt force trauma to his head and (a) puncture wound(s) in his abdomen.

I thought that the weapon would say a lot about whether something happened in the heat of the moment (which I assumed was the case). Like a hairdryer in the bathroom, or a knife in the kitchen... whatever was at hand. Or if it had been planned, like when Julie Schenecker had bought a gun just days before killing her two teenaged children in Florida.

I had asked her husband what he thought the weapon was, and at one point he told me it might have been her bare hands. How is that even possible? I wondered. He described the scene he found as "ritualistic."

As it turns out, the head trauma was caused by a goblet or chalice type item.

It wasn't until just a few weeks ago, during the trial, that I learned that an arrowhead was retrieved from the autopsy. It was left in him?

For some reason, this fact left me reeling. It just seemed so... disrespectful, I guess.

When I visited Lori in March of 2009, the subject of food came up (something we used to talk about quite a bit) and she said to me, there in jail, that your body is your temple. I thought to myself, "what about Garrison's temple?"

I wrote a few days back that I had to decide whether to go see Lori before she is sentenced, because she may end up too far away to visit after that. I thought briefly about going tomorrow, it being the anniversary and all. But when I thought about what I wanted to say to her, all I could come up with was hurtful things. But that wouldn't help anything. It wouldn't make me feel better. That's not the kind of person I want to be. So instead, I guess I will go see the therapist I saw for about a year after Lori's arrest. I can still go visit her in the next few weeks if talking it through with my therapist brings any more light to why I (sort of) want to go see her.


My therapist doesn't know yet that my mother-in-law died, or my step-dad's mother, so I suppose we will talk about that some too.

Sitting in the church on Saturday for E's memorial, I had the thought that these things are getting entirely too close together. And, in all likelihood, we are not done yet. I don't know any better than anyone else how long my grandpa will be alive, it may be months or years, but he is getting more tired and more weak all the time. I can feel it looming.


michelle said...

Everything I think of saying seems ridiculously trite.

So just

Petit fleur said...

Good idea to talk it out with your therapist. When in doubt call on the professionals... always a good plan.

Thinking of you,

Mwa said...

Big hug from me. I don't think anyone can understand that kind of thing. x

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Just sending love, Steph. I don't know what else to say or do.


ConsciouslyFrugal said...

Wow. Just. Oy. Love to you and yours.