The Aftermath of Murder

Losing someone you love is never easy. There have been times, both professionally and personally, when my breath was taken away by the circumstances in which loss occurred. Murder is one type of death that catapults the survivors into an extraordinary grief journey.

I experienced the aftermath of murder when my brother-in-law was killed by his roommate. Dale was a vibrant, good-looking, fun-loving 23 year-old whose brilliant future was snuffed out in one insane moment. Ironically, I wanted to call him the night before he died to tell him that I was pregnant but didn't. I decided to wait until morning so that my husband, who was working afternoons, could also speak with him. He was killed by a single gunshot to the head at the break of dawn. The only peace of mind we had was that Dale was sound asleep when the gun discharged. Thankfully he didn’t hear the person enter his room because he had fallen asleep wearing stereo headphones.

My husband’s parents died when he was a teenager so we, along with a younger brother, were next of kin and instantaneously plunged into a world of legal chaos. What complicated it even more was that we had to adapt to the role of ‘family of the victim’ which was quite different for my husband who was a peace officer 24/7. His position in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police afforded us no special treatment or extra information. We had to move through the system kicking and screaming for answers like any other family. We had to deal with a complicated estate, including the sale of Dale's house, which he owned jointly with his younger brother and the man who killed him. None of it was easy and all of it took a toll on both of us.

Weeks after his death, I threatened to miscarry and was hospitalized. My husband was ‘pressured’ and yes, I do mean pressured to return to work in the small detachment he had been posted to for two years. This was over 30 years ago and the police force didn’t offer much in the way of counselling or even monitoring an officer who was under extreme stress. Their catch-all solution was to get back to work as soon as possible and stay busy. Mix this with raising a near two-year old and living some 300 miles away from my family and 14 hours away from where the investigation and murder trial was to take place and it spelled disaster. It was also the perfect scenario to delay our grief responses, especially for my husband. He couldn’t cope with what had happened and all of the chaos gave him reason to avoid his feelings of helplessness and despair.

Three weeks before I delivered our baby, friends informed us that the trial was going ahead… the next day. We could not attend as it was hundreds of miles away, so my husband called the Crown Prosecutor to order a transcript of the trial. He asked how long the trial would take… as in how many days or weeks. He was told two hours. The Crown had struck a deal with the roommate. If he plead guilty he would get ‘not guilty by reason of insanity.’ Sure enough, the trial went before judge and jury the next day. It lasted less than two hours. The defence instructed the jury to bring back the verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity as did the prosecutor, as did the judge. The jury deliberated for eleven minutes and brought back the verdict as instructed. We were angry and frustrated. Moreover, we believed the trial was a mockery.

The point of telling my readers all of this is to demonstrate how the grief process for the victim’s family and loved ones can be derailed and delayed for a long time, if not  indefinitely. The quest for justice is all consuming. The fight for the deceased person’s honour is fierce. The circumstances surrounding the death (how they died, were they aware, did they suffer, etc.) becomes something you eat and breath.

I would like to tell you that we found our way through the heartbreak. I would like to say that my husband found the strength and courage to slay the demons that scarred his heart so deeply. I’d like to say that the experience of losing his mom when he was 14 years old and his dad when he was 17 gave him the tools he needed to move beyond the death of his brother. I can’t. What I can tell you is that his wounds were so deep and so raw that the unresolved grief of his parents’ deaths, which festered below the surface, snowballed and took the grief of his brother’s death to astronomical proportions.

Our baby girl was born and the gift of two sweet children gave us both comfort and hope. And the needs of our little family gave him more reason to push aside the sorrow he lived with. So what happened?  His broken heart took him down the path that millions of others on a similar journey take. He drank too much. He smoked too much. He refused to talk about it with me or anyone else.  Eventually, he pushed the limits of sacredness and entered into a brief affair with my younger sister.

You can imagine my disbelief (and anger) when the counsellors (three in fact) told me that the affair really had nothing to do with me. It was all about the war within himself to avoid the pain of losing those he loved that pushed him to become part of a situation that could force the ultimate loss… that of his wife and children. Subconsciously, he feared that everyone would leave him so he created situations to make it happen.  I know some of you will think this was an excuse. Believe me - I had to work through it myself. Forgiveness didn’t come easily for me, nor did rebuilding the trust. But at some level, I understood there had to be some truth to this. So began my 11 year search for meaning to understand my loss and his. In the end, I came to accept that the aftermath of his brother’s murder and the unresolved grief of losing his parents were in fact, at the base of his self-destruction. Was my husband a bad person? No, he was wounded. I know you're wondering...sorry, I can't speak to my sister's part in it. I can only say that I never understood it.

Sadly, my husband’s story mirrors that of millions who do not, or are not given a safe, nurturing environment to do the work of mourning. When we struggle to survive the aftermath of brutality and the ending of a loved one’s life at the hands of another, we need extra help. We need extra time. We need extra understanding. If you have never walked this path it’s extremely difficult to fully appreciate the magnitude of suffering it brings to those left behind.

God speed to families and friends who have endured this kind of loss and who are living with the aftermath of murder. It is a painful journey and my wish is that peace and comfort is one day yours.

Photo Credit: Simon Howden
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