Friday, February 10, 2006

One year ago today....

A client of mine received a call from her ex-in-laws. The ex was acting strangely and she needed to be careful.

The client and her mother went to the courthouse, got an emergency protective order against the ex, went to lunch, and her mom took her back to work.

Unbeknownst to Catherine and her mom, the ex was sitting on the other side of the parking lot, loading his shot gun.

Catherine went in, Mom drove off. The ex grabbed his gun, went in, walked into her office and shut the door. He shot her point blank 3 times with that shotgun. He, thankfully, did one good thing that day. He also shot and killed himself.

Ace remembered me talking about Miss Catherine before, and when he heard the story on the news about a shooting at her company he called. Somehow, even though we were all unaware of the marital problems, we knew it was her.


A part of me changed that day. I once was involved in an abusive relationship. The worst thing that happened to me was a broken bone that required surgery, and a few additional scars from other 'disagreements'. I was never afraid of him. I'm the type that will fight back, against anyone or anything. I always thought that I could deal with the punches. I could deal with the kicks. I could deal with the screaming, the throwing things, the being spit on. I would always fight back. Granted he was 5 inches taller and 50 lbs heavier than me, but I'd be dammed if someone was going to hit me and get away with it. I did eventually leave him, but not after trying 6 or 7 times.
When this happened, I became very very afraid of him. He and I hadn't been together for more than 2 years by the time Catherine died. It didn't matter. I realized at that moment that it didn't matter if you get out of the relationship, that doesn't mean it's over to him. That a punch isn't the worst thing someone can do to you.

After the end of my bad relationship, I was told to get out of town for a while. I thought of where to go, who I could stay with and not be a burden. I'm not sure if my naive soul or my pride prevented me from doing that. After I heard about Catherine I realized what a fool I was. I could have been her. Minding my own business, trying to escape the problems at home by burying myself in my work. And ultimately realizing that the person I thought loved me wished I was dead. And would actually kill me.

I hope that Catherine's parents know how much she meant to everyone. And how she is still on everyones mind. At least she's on mine.