Finding Peace

He's dead. How is that supposed to make me feel?

When the detective first told me, I felt a small twinge of disappointment. I actually felt disappointed that I wouldn't see him held accountable. I didn't really expect to feel that way. But it was just a small disappointment. I got over it quickly.

Then, when I learned he still lived in town all these years, I felt threatened. Just for a split second though - until I remembered he was dead. That feeling surprised me too. I don't have a conscious memory of being afraid - except that I do remember that I didn't want to be in the car alone with him. I DO remember wishing that he would take ME home first. But he took Patsy home first. That's all I remember. I remember her getting out of the car at her house. And I remember pulling into the driveway at my house. I don't remember a thing about the ride home though. What did we talk about, I wonder.

But now, he's dead. I sit in church with his obituary in my hand and as I read it something happens. He was a son. His parents, who predeceased him, were both professors at a local university. He was a brother. His sisters live out of town. His brother still lives in town. He was an uncle. He wasn't survived or predeceased by a wife or children. His interests included European travel, German culture - and landscaping. No mention of him being a child molester. Not that THAT surprises me.

But it makes me wonder....What happened to him growing up? Was HE molested as a child? Was it his father? Uncle? Brother? Teacher? Did he tell? Did he keep it a secret? There was no wife, no children. Was he gay? That wouldn't have been accepted in those days. Maybe he was struggling with his sexuality trying to figure it out himself. Who knows WHAT he was thinking or WHY he did what he did. I don't think I'll ever know this side of heaven.

But I'm in church. I'm here because God is the only one who can give me answers. And He does - kind of.

Mr. K- was God's child too. He struggled with something. Doesn't matter what, but he struggled. He made poor choices. But he was God's child and God loved him. I am also God's child. And as His child, He calls me to be forgiving. He asks me not to judge. He asks me to trust Him. And I know deep in my heart that in God - justice and mercy meet. God may have had mercy on Mr. K - and I'm okay with that - because I also know that God cares about me too. God will not show mercy at the expense of justice. That's where Purgatory comes in. I believe that Mr. K- is experiencing a cleansing of his soul. And when God allows him full entrance into heaven, justice will have been served. I trust God on that. I don't have to worry about it.

Mr. K- is dead. He can't hurt me anymore. Wherever he is, I feel he understands now the pain that he caused. I feel he's sorry. And I forgive him. I have to. It's the only way to put it behind me. It's the only way to move forward. I still have a lot of healing to do. But I don't feel angry with him anymore. I write him a letter.

Dear Mr. K-

I wonder....

What was it like for you - the moment you passed from your earthly life into the very presence of God?

When you were standing there - surrounded by His love, ready to review your life?

Did you think you had resolved everything? Did you think you were ready?

Did you remember what you had done to me all those years ago? Or, had you forgotten?

Did you think God had forgotten? Were you surprised that He hadn't?

Did you feel ashamed? Did you feel sorry?

Did you cry?

Did you care? (I think you did.)

Did God forgive you?

I think He did.



And then, I whisper a little prayer for him. Rest in peace, Mr. K. I forgive you. But wherever you are - I hope you are praying for me also. Because I still need to heal. I have a lot of work to do. Amen