This year, I don’t know that I have words. The only word that comes to mind as I try to write this is ‘numb.’
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Three years ago tonight, I received the call that would change so many lives forever.
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Last year, I had so many words.
This year, I have spent hours trying to find them…
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Three years.
And still, no trials.
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Another year carrying the memories of that night, knowing we will have to hear it all again in a courtroom someday. I want that day to come so desperately for you, and yet I dread what it will ask of our family.
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I can still close my eyes and see you in that trauma bay. My nurse brain understood things my heart could not accept. A terrible nightmare I have never gotten to wake up from.
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The rest of the world keeps moving. I do, too. But I will never be who I was before that call.
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Grief and happiness coexist.
So do love and anger.
And this year, I am tired.
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Tired of waiting. Tired of another anniversary arriving with no accountability, no justice, no trials. Tired of watching the distance grow between the last time we saw you and today.
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P, I wish I could tell you something different this year. That the people who did this to you had been held accountable.
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But, I can tell you this…you are still loved. Still spoken about. Still part of this community, every single day.
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To everyone who continues to say his name, who remembers him and stands beside our family through this waiting…thank you
It matters.
You matter.
Especially now.
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Three years ago.
Seems like forever ago.
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Three years ago.
Feels like yesterday.
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I love you, buddy.
We are still here,
we are still waiting.
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Xo,
Auntie
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#justice4prestonlord