It’s Like A Killer Came Into Our House!!

It’s Like A Killer Came Into Our House

My grandmother was a wonderful woman. She was an Old World Italian with Old World values. I learned about being a female at her side. An experience that shaped my life and gave me the foundation for my life. But there was one thing that anyone could expect when they spent time with her. First, you would eat the best Italian food on the planet earth. Second, she always said exactly what was on her mind.

When I was five years old, I heard her say the words that affected my life for many years. “It’s like a killer came into our house”. I did not understand. What I did know was that my mother was not at home and that my father was crying. This man, standing in the middle of the kitchen in his military uniform, crying uncontrollably. I had never seen him cry. He was the strength of my life. Everyone looked up to him. Even at five years old I could see it.

So there I stood. Those words bouncing around in my brain. “It’s like a killer came into our house”. My grandmother finally took me aside and told me my mother would not becoming home. I remember words like ‘She has gone up to be with God’ and ‘She is safe now’. More words that meant little to me. All I was hearing was my grandmothers words. "A killer into our house." Where? Why are we just standing here? Should I hide? It was many months before my father could stop checking my bedroom for this killer before I would go to sleep. In time I calmed down, got a little older and started to understand what had happened to my mother. The pain was no less but I was not hiding under my covers anymore.

When I was 18 years old this KILLER returned. I watched my father, this strong and honorable man, whither into someone that was barely recognizable to me. This man who taught me to stand on my own could no longer stand without help. This man who protected me for all the years of my life had become helpless and feeble in front of my eyes. There was nothing I could do to protect him. And then the killer came into our home again and took him from me.

This time I understood who the killer was but I was still helpless. So, as many people do; I stuck my head back in the sand and tried to forget all of it. I was 18 years old, alone and survival was the only instinct that seemed to be working for me. My father taught me survival skills. When I think back now about what he taught me; I wonder if he knew I would need them.

For many years I went through life with blinders on. Not seeing what was going on around me. Eyes straight ahead. Full survival mode. But deep inside. In those places where we hide unpleasant memories. I have always wondered when that killer was coming for me. After all it took everyone I loved. So it just had to be a matter of time.

One day I saw people walking around the athletic track at a local high school. There were tents and music. People walking with shirts that had 'Survivor' on them. I went and watch and listened. Took home some information and the next year I went out to help.

My head was out of the sand. My blinders were off. There were people I could talk to about my fears. And these Survivors who shared their stories. I realized, while listening to these people, that the killer had come to their houses and that they had beat him.

So now I Relay. But now I am prepared for this killer. I understand him better.

The day someone in my family says ‘It’s like a killer came into our house’; I can look at this killer and know I did something. My head was out of the sand and I know that I did my best to beat him.

Yes grandmother! It is like a killer came into our house. And we spit in its eye.

Night Nicholls
Go Relay