I know something about losing a father.
I lost my own father to suicide years ago.
I know what it is like to grow older and still wish you could ask your dad one more question.
I know what grief does.
I know how it can suddenly appear years after you think you’ve learned to live with it.
I would never wish that kind of pain on a child.
And that is why I cannot stop thinking about all five children.
They did not choose any of this.
They did not choose the arguments.
They did not choose the relationship.
They did not choose the decisions their parents made.
They did not choose August 17th.
But they have to live with it.
For the rest of their lives.
That’s why I don’t want the final lesson from this tragedy to be another argument about which dead person deserves more hatred.
I don’t want strangers fighting over photographs and arrest records.
I don’t want people competing to prove that they know who was the villain and who was the victim based on a few paragraphs online.
There are lessons here that matter far more.
Domestic violence matters.
Men experiencing abuse matter.
