“How are you doing?”

I’ve struggled to put into words what I’m feeling and what I’m going through. The calm but curious inquiry into my emotions now leaves me speechless and erratic. It was such an easy and everyday question that yielded an unintrusive yet straightforward response.

The reality is I can’t answer it. I’m overwhelmed. I’m emotional. I’m fine. I’m scared. I’m underwater. And yet, I’m always trying to fill the time. I feel I am the busiest I’ve ever been and surrounded by so many people. While at the same time, I feel stationary and lonely.

I’m living with the overwhelming grief and emotion that comes with having my mother and sister ripped from my life so violently.

For those who know me, I’m a type-A person. I keep lists. I like to work through a process. And I have a particular way of doing things. Anyone who has had the unfortunate duty of handling the personal affairs of someone who has passed away will tell you it can be a very long and process-driven hell. Now multiply that by three estates, add being 2,000 miles away from home, and sprinkle in the difficulty and delays of a pandemic, and that has been my daily “9–5” the past six months.

I’ve quickly learned a lot about probate court, the unique similarities between customer service hold music, and the unfortunate privilege of selling my first home (one which I’ve never stepped foot in). I’ve recently been focusing on other elements of this tragedy my mind couldn’t handle until now.

I’m trying to understand what happened leading up to the death of my mother and sister. I won’t have all the answers to my questions, but what I already know is it could have been more challenging for my brother-in-law to murder them.

No one will understand what I’m going through. And that is okay. I don’t ask for understanding. But I want others to know that part of my grief is identifying what can be changed to make sure others don’t experience this struggle and emotion.

I’ve been talking to advocacy groups, local leaders, and community organizations. I’m continuing to learn more each day about the sad and troubling trends domestic violence victims face. Everything I’ve read says you never really heal from a traumatic loss, but you learn to cope and handle the pain. Maybe this is part of my coping. Perhaps this is part of me avoiding or delaying the grief. It’s probably just a combination of both at the end of the day.

Either way, I will continue to learn, try to understand, and push forward to make things harder for domestic violence offenders. In between, I need to take time for myself. These days it seems hard to do. I want to get past this, whatever this feeling is. For now, I’m keeping busy and going back to what I do best — asking questions.

Advocacy is my love language. And I’m trying to learn how to love again.