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Sparkle (0)
Tomorrow is the anniversary of York's murder. I cannot explain how I feel each year as this day approaches. His birthday every year is a rough day too, but this day is worse. It is hard to breathe on these days. I have come to the conclusion that I will never have an answer for my questions, the biggest of which is: HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED? York was only 3 when he died at the hands of his father, whom to all appearances was a good person, a nice, Christian, motivational speaker. It came out later, during the murder trial, that maybe he wasn't such a good person after all, or maybe he was, but he was depressed and abusing substances. I have a hard time believing that depression and substance abuse accounts for the brutal battery and strangulation of York, who was so pristinely innocent, even for a child. He was just so beautiful, so honest, so funny, so sweet, so REAL. I think often of Yorkaroni, as I liked to call him. I cannot believe you are dead, sweet boy. Furthermore, I cannot believe HOW terrible your death was. Just as often as I think of you, I think about your wonderful mother and your darling sister, who was only 4 at the time. I wonder if your sister will ever really be okay, after the middle of the night ordeal where she held your bloody, smashed, limp body close one last time, as she said goodbye to the brother she would never see again. I can't imagine what it was like for your mom and sister to watch the paramedics take you away after that. Clearly their grief is much more important than mine. But I loved you too, as did many, many others. I wish I'd told your mom how grateful I was for her help and support while I had the chance. I'm sorry I don't have that chance any longer, as I wouldn't contact her now even if I knew where she was. It is none of my business anymore, and I'm afraid a reminder of me would remind her of you, so I keep quiet, though I google her from time to time, wondering where she and your sister are now, sending them prayers and love and wishes of peace and healing. I'm sure you are fine now, York. I couldn't bear to think anything other than that you are free and no longer in pain. I adore you and love you more than I can express. I still picture you as the tiny, shy, sweetly smiling boy that you were. It is hard to believe you would be ten if you were alive today. I grieve over all that you are missing out on, I hope you can see us from wherever you are. Don't forget we all love you and miss you, Yorkaroni.
