Traumatised by the images
SATURDAY, June 5 – Back to square one. That’s what it feels like. The physical numbness, the uncontrollable tears, the big hug on the baseball field when Eamonn threw in the towel. The will is there, but he can’t do it. All because of him. He hates him, and I understand those feelings all too well.
Yesterday Eamon walked into my study where Sander had just discovered an article with the news that the motorcycle cop is soon to be prosecuted. The photo knocked him for a loop. Luckily, there was no photo of the ambulance men putting his mother on the stretcher. But there was a silent witness: the overturned motorcycle.
That was the image that remained imprinted on his retina. It continued to haunt him this morning, paralyzing his body. He couldn’t think of anything else and all he wanted was to be held tight. In the dugout, on the sidelines, in the parking lot… He wanted desperately to play, but he couldn’t. Because baseball was Mom, and Mom was baseball.
All he said was ‘I want Mom back’.
We went home after the warm-up. On the way to the car Eamonn said: ‘Let’s stay real close to each other today.’
I feel strong. I want to be there for Eamonn, for Sander, for myself, and for Jenn as well. I know I can do it – the trial is not too far away. I intend to make use of my legal right to speak. In my mind the first few sentences are taking shape. I will talk about determining exactly where the truth lies. The judicial truth, but above all the truth of our life. The facts of the investigation and the facts of our day-to-day life.