Something Serious to Say

I am sad. In 6 days we will find out when the trial for my brother's killer will be. That is a strange sentence to type, or even think. It becomes difficult to follow an actual whole book, or to consider writing about anything. One proceeds through, feigning some degree of normalcy, and then it's like oh a murder trial. How surreal and emotionally bizarre.

We often refer to people "understanding." That's not really possible, and I am not convinced that it's necessary. Since I have family who also experienced the loss, I know there are at least 3 people who "get it." But to 'get it' may just mean they feel awful in a similar style to my awful feeling. There is a good chance that we are not all on the path to any meta-cognition about the matter.

Indeed, the crux of the problem seems to be when one loses the meta-cognition and is unable to see one's self realistically. The situation comes back in distortion, of course, as the human brain is truly ill-equipped to manage the information too closely. We are all better at storing it away, and events like trials cause a little leakage from that remote storage area.

Here's what I think I might sort of know: natural justice will prevail in the so-called life of the person who killed my brother. Regardless of what a court decides, there is an accounting that will have to be made, and there will be no freedom for her. Perhaps this is what I tell myself as comfort, but I also believe that people's spirits bear out, so that we all do know when someone is good or when someone has dome a horrible wrong. We sense the disturbance; we hear the dog growl, and eventually, he bites. Then people say "we had no warning." But there are warnings, if we are able to look. Killing is wrong, and in this instance, it was, ironically, both brutally deliberate and utterly random.