Coming upon the three years that your soul has departed us I find myself wondering what justice will look like for you.
As court is approaching there is an unsettling of the soul. An unsettling of what the future holds and how judge and jury will pass judgment on those that took your life.
Panic, unrest, and anxiety fill me but I focus on the fact that justice will prevail and those that have wronged you will be held accountable for your death. No sentence will bring you back but in my heart it will serve as just that they will endure the lifetime of chains, grief and confusion that I will have to endure.
I can only pray that God will endure and make clear the wrongs and make them right. When the gavel makes the sound will my heart be further broken?
There are moments in life when uncertainty becomes its own kind of weight.
As we move closer to trial, I find myself carrying a heaviness that is difficult to put into words. The uncertainty of what the outcome will be, what justice will look like, and what life will feel like afterward has a way of reaching places inside me I didn't know could hurt. It rattles me physically to my core and emotionally in ways that are difficult to explain to anyone who hasn't lived through the unimaginable.
Three years.
Sometimes those words don't even feel real. How can three years have passed when there are still moments when the loss feels as immediate as yesterday? Time has continued moving forward, even though a part of our family is forever frozen on that October night.
As trial approaches, I am realizing that this isn't simply about preparing for a courtroom. It is preparing to walk back through a chapter of the worst pain imaginable while knowing that, at the end of it, there are no guarantees about what comes next.
I don't know what the verdict will be.
I don't know what justice will ultimately feel like.
There is the legal uncertainty.
The waiting, the questions, the things completely outside of my control.
Then there is the emotional uncertainty. What happens to us when this chapter is finally over?
Will there be relief?
Anger?
Emptiness?
Peace?
Or some combination of all of it?
And hovering over everything is the approaching three-year mark of losing Preston.
And I don't know who I will be when the courtroom doors finally close behind us.
But I do know that Preston's life deserves to be remembered for so much more than the way it ended.
And as we approach this next chapter, I am going to try to find the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other for Preston, for our family, and for the life he should still be living.
I find comfort in the St. Michael Prayer.
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.
Melissa Ciconte