A heavy day, but I am thankful for my support system and the time I had with my dad and am very proud of my resilience 🤍 Three years ago today, my dad was m*rd*r*d in the comfort of his own home. My uncle, who lived next door to my parents, and our family dog were also taken in this senseless act of v**l*nc*. I grew up in the middle of nowhere, the epitome of “things like this never happen here.” But it did when a member of my family’s church entered my childhood home and upended our lives. As of today, we still have not gone to trial and keep seeing the process being delayed. In the last three years, things have changed for all of us. My dad never got to meet his grandson. My family is still sad, but the terrible day is not as front-and-center in my brain as it once was. But it is always burned in it. Grief is a terrible burden, and the v**l*nc* that surrounded my dad’s d**th will always be jarring. For yet another year, I’ll reflect on how much my dad loved us, wait for what’...