January 15, 2025
Today we met with our Prosecutor Team and our Victims Advocate, for an update on John’s murder case.
I sat down at my kitchen table, logged onto my laptop fifteen minutes early, and nervously waited for the window to pop up, indicating the Prosecution Team and our Victim Advocate were ready to begin the online meeting. I preferred to meet as early as possible today, but we had to schedule at 4pm because that’s the time my husband, Ronnie, gets home from work. As I anxiously awaited the start of the meeting, I heard the garage door open and a few minutes later Ronnie entered the kitchen. I felt his energy enter the room before he did, and it was intense. His anger was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Meetings with the Prosecutors always stir up a range of emotions within both of us so this could be the reason for his mood. Before I could ask how his day was, the Prosecutors’ faces popped up on my screen and the meeting began.
The discussion started off with the usual pleasantries. They asked how we were doing and if we enjoyed our holiday. While I understand that is a question most people ask at this time of year, my answer was bluntly honest… horrible.
How do they expect us to reply? John was murdered less than five months ago. This was the first Christmas without our son; the first Christmas John’s eight-year-old daughter would spend without her father, the first Christmas our daughter, Justice, would be without her big brother. Having to say Merry Christmas to a picture of my son, with tears streaming down our faces, was absolutely heartbreaking.
I can’t go into details about the discussion or the case at this time. When it’s all over, I ‘ll be able to speak more freely. What I can say is, after the meeting between our prosecutors and the defense, we have a difficult decision to make.
As the window on my laptop closed, Ronnie stood up from the table and walked away. I leaned back into my chair in a daze. A single tear slowly slid down my cheek and my heart began to race. I have no idea what to do.
“What should we do?” I asked in my head.
We’ll have to decide before speaking with our prosecution team at the next meeting.
I asked again, this time aloud, with tears now streaming down my face, “What do we do?”
A sudden calm came over me, and through my tears, I paused a moment and posed my question differently. This time, I directed it to the one who mattered the most and asked,
“John, what do you want us to do?”
“We are your voice now. I am listening and we will speak for you.”
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