Why I Can’t Forgive My Sister’s Killer

This past week, I have spent a good portion of my time in bed watching Investigation Discovery. It’s one of my all-time favorite things to do when I have some free time. But this time it was different, it wasn’t mindless television watching, it got me thinking. It got me thinking about something I don’t normally talk about nor want to talk about.

19 years ago, I lost my older sister to a reckless murder. Well, I guess if you call strangling reckless, but that is besides the point. It was murder. Point. Blank. Murder.

I was 6. It was at a time that I knew death meant forever. I knew more than my parents or older siblings wanted me to know.

I remember one of my older sisters just matter-of-factly told someone who saw that  “Oh, my older sister got murdered” like it was nothing. Like this happens EVERYDAY.


But back to the point of this, while watching television I saw a lot of people forgiving their daughters, husbands, brothers killer. And I sit there and I wonder how? Why? You must be a bigger person than I.

Do I forgive my sister’s killer? No. Will I ever forgive him? No. Does that make me any less of a person? No.

The BYas Life, How can you forgive a killer, murder, 1998 murderIn my mind, how can I forgive someone who robbed me off the safe feeling a child should have? How can I forgive someone who made my dad cry over and over again until he died? How can I forgive someone who took away one of my own sisters?

I remember speaking to my schools counselor at 6 years old and her asking me questions about what happened. She just wanted to talk to see if I was okay or not. I remember thanking God for allowing my younger sister to not fully grasp the concept of death. I remember at night just thinking I don’t want anyone to ever feel the way I feel. Who can forgive someone who’s done that to a child?

I may not forgive you, but I do thank you. I thank you for showing me of the person I don’t ever want to meet. Thank you for robbing me of my ‘safe’ feeling, and making me put on armour to protect myself. Most of all, thank you for not taking the easy way out.

In the end, I may not ever forgive him, but at least I came to peace with this about 9 years ago. However, I do applaud the families of victims that can find it in their hearts and their souls to forgive the ones that did them wrong. At the same time, even if you cannot forgive them like myself, at least try to make peace with it.

Amanda is a Florida raised, theme park junkie, furmom extraordinaire. She loves a good adventure with a side of food. You can find her planning her next trip or vegging on the couch with her sidekick (and baby), Bella!

6 Comments

  • Patrick Weseman December 14, 2017 at 10:37 am

    This deep and wonderful. Thanks for sharing this. Something I need to hear and read.

    Reply
    • Amanda December 14, 2017 at 1:20 pm

      You’re certainly welcome! I am glad I was able to post something you needed to hear today. 🙂

      Reply
  • Karen December 15, 2017 at 11:01 am

    Sending lots of love and hugs, my best birch! I can’t forgive what my abusers did either… but like you, I am proud for who it made me today.

    Reply
    • Amanda December 15, 2017 at 1:47 pm

      *hugs* Honestly, I think being proud of for how it made you today is still a great lesson!! It can be a hard one to swallow, but we did it!

      Reply
  • Diana Niglio December 16, 2017 at 2:29 pm

    This has piece has given me a different perspective about life.

    Reply
    • Amanda December 16, 2017 at 2:41 pm

      I hope it’s a good perspective on life. 🙂

      Reply

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