A Letter to my Grandfather and All Those Who Have Lost Someone in Violence

I remember that on this date, in 1991, it was your last day on earth. I remember your smile and the twinkle in your eyes. I remember your laugh. I remember hearing the distant sirens not realizing at the time that they were headed toward you. I remember that when they found you, you still had a pen in your hand…

…A piece of me died that day too. The shock waves of Violence and evil travel deep. They knock us down into the black from which it rose and the known path becomes lost. And all of life as we knew it remains in that space of time now defined as "before." It is packaged and sealed and is placed in a box seemingly separate and lost. The world becomes, for a time, a dark wood. Where one begs for light, but doesn't know how to find it, for all of the paths are overgrown and seem to lead one only deeper into darkness…
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