When My Nephew Was Murdered

About a year and a half after mom died, I got a call from one of my sisters saying "Obie's dead!"  I went into shock. My sister was screaming and crying and I said I would leave right then to be with her.  I think she said he had been shot, but I could hardly retain what I was hearing. I called my dad and said he had to go and be with her since he was closest but I was leaving in a few minutes.  It would take me at least two hours to get there.  My sister was on the outs with my father feeling he was responsible for her staying at a job she hated.  As far as I could tell, there was no basis to it, but reason didn't play a part in this.

I left within fifteen minutes to my sisters home in Los Angeles County. I called my work, Paul, and a couple others also adding I didn't know when I'd be back. 

When I got there, my dad and Kate were trying to comfort her, but she was beyond being comforted.  She told us that Obie had not come home the previous night to Ray's home. Ray was Obie's father.  My sister and Ray were divorced and Obie lived at each home for part of the week.  Ray had called my sister to ask if he was there. She then made multiple calls with no luck finding out what happened.  Early afternoon there was a knock at the door and a police officer was there telling her that her son was shot and killed the night before.  She started screaming at him believing the police had killed him. 

I suggested we all go to Ray's home so everyone could be together. I'm somewhat confused about how we all got there, but we did.  I remember a lot, and yet, there are blanks in other places. Ray was crying and said his sisters were on their way.  They lived in the south of the United States, but I can't recall which state.  Ray is African-American. He lived in a neighborhood in Los Angeles that has a lot of gang violence.  I never thought about it when Ray and my sister were married. I went to their home a lot.  I never felt threatened.  Ray was a good person and a great father.  My dad, Kate and I were trying to be support to others, though we were having a hard time also. 

Obie was a senior in high school doing very well.  He had plans to go on to college.  He was 17 and a big kid.  He came from families that spoke up for people being mistreated and tended to be soft spoken. 

We heard that a flyer was passed around at the high school that there was going to be a party at someone's apartment on a Friday night.  Obie did not tell either of his parents about this but he went.  There was a much smaller boy who was being bullied at the party and Obie stepped in between them to stop it.  The word was that the bully challenged Obie and they went out to the street.  It made sense to me he would speak up for someone who was being bullied.  I have no idea what was exchanged except for the bullet which killed Obie. 

Police were called and Obie's body was taken to the morgue where they immediately did an autopsy.  I know this because my sister wanted me to read the report and give her a synopsis.  Of course, her biggest concern at this point was if Obie suffered.  It appeared he died immediately from his injuries. They knew who he was because he had ID on him. The one doing the autopsy thought he was maybe 22, but the officer told him he was 17 by his ID.  They also took his corneas for transplant.  I found this upsetting.  First, they had his ID and didn't contact family until the next day and I thought they had to ask for permission to harvest anything from someone's body, especially a minor. I think the family would have said yes, but I have a hard time with how it was handled.

Ray's sisters showed up hours later from out of state.  They were very warm people and obviously came from a close knit family. I felt so much better when they were there.  We went to the mortuary to make arrangements. They wanted a casket.  The man discussing all this with us was pushing to get them to spend more money in every category playing on their desire to show their love.  I cut him off a couple of times and said that somethings weren't necessary.  No one had money.  I had a credit card.  Ray would be getting money to cover this.  So, I think I put it on my card and Ray paid me later. 

Many of Obie's friends came by.  They heard something had happened, but they were not sure.  It was all so painful.  Obie had taken his mother's car to the party.  It turned out that three of the kids who came were also at the party.  I asked them to take me there so I could retrieve my sister's car.  They did. I asked them where it happened and they showed me. There was much dried blood on the street next to the curb.  I dropped and sat on the curb crying that this could happen to a young person, my nephew, knowing this happens all the time.  I drove the car back looking through tears that refused to stop and the kids followed.

There was a wake and we all went.  Ray couldn't get himself to enter the door to see Obie, but with some urging he did.  He was devastated.  The idea that his son was dead was too much.  At the funeral the next day, the large chapel was filled with kids and adults, white and black and brown.  There were also many of his teachers there. Paul and his son Jerry came.  My sister would not let any of us get close to her, to hug or offer comfort.  It was very painful.

Perhaps Ray's family pulled together after this.  That did not happen with ours.  My sister again would have nothing to do with my dad but he attempted several times to reach out.  My other sister called me at Paul's home to yell at me for something I did.  I didn't want my sister to have the keys to the car because she had been drinking heavily and I saw it as dangerous.  My other sister saw it as controlling.  As soon as I got off the phone I ran to the bathroom where I vomited. When I came out, Paul and his oldest son Jeff were staring at me.  I  said I was feeling sick.  Paul said he thought it was a result of the argument with my sister.  I was rather shocked because I really hadn't thought of it that way, but him putting it in words made it obvious.

My sister has rarely been willing to talk about it.  Even though she has been told by others later about what happened and then told me who had killed Obie and said that that kid was later killed, she forgets this and gives money to people to investigate his murder who are glad to take it but I don't believe anything more has been done or found out.  She doesn't trust most people and is continually looking for answers.

For myself, I have had to let it go.  I cannot handle being in distress all the time.  I've found that if people do not want your support, it does not help to give it.  I used to talk with my dad when he was alive.  I spoke with Paul.  Mainly, I spoke with friends. I did go to a bereavement support group for a while.  I needed more support than I could get around me at the time.  At the support group I was struck with the horrible experiences others were having too.  One woman's ex-husband came over killing all their children and then himself. Absolutely too much!  I couldn't go back. I couldn't bear to hear more of her story and I didn't feel mine was worth sharing after that. Not rational, but there it is.

I don't think I handled all of this right (if there is a right way).  I'm just sharing what I recall happened and how I felt at the time.  I also think as we live, get older we have more experiences with death and dying, that in sharing this it could help someone else.  I can say that in the writing of this, it helps me.

I read this article on Invisible Illness- Maintaining Hope.  Though not related to the above, I wanted to pass it on to anyone who deals with a chronic illness that others cannot see and therefore do not acknowledge what limitations you have:

    http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/5567132?utm_hp_ref=tw

This has become an expensive week. I had a headlight go out when I was visiting my friend Martha near Visalia. So I knew it wouldn't be cheap, but with other issues added it became very expensive!  And then a letter from Social Security Administration came stating they over paid me when I was getting widow's benefits and that I owe them about $10,000. Ugh. I had spoken with the worker on the phone when I initially applied and she made it clear it wouldn't be a problem until I was getting state retirement, so I applied and then when the state retirement started, it changed to regular retirement. Very confusing, but I thought I had done it all correctly. I was getting disability from the state, but I was told that wasn't an issue.  Not sure exactly how I'll handle this, but I'll first check  if I really did misunderstand this issue. I will be able to deal with it, but it does cause problems.

I had a great intro class to Acrylics with Toni Lott. I still need to put in more grass, but I was meeting Janet at Mexicali's and needed to leave. Below is that picture.

Seagull on Tree stump done in acrylic

I finally started gathering all the guides, pictures I've taken, practice sheets and started putting them in 3-ring binders. It's a relief because I spend too much time looking for what I need. It's a good feeling. Also my study is looking much neater that I like being in there now.

I met with Barbara Long yesterday.  We went to the Tofu House, a Korean restaurant for dinner. They make very tasty food and have a lot of it.  We then saw The Giver. Both of us enjoyed it. Interesting concept.

Today I had a late breakfast with Valerie at the Black Bear Dinner.  The food was fine and they had vegetarian options.   She is back to teaching. She does a lot of work outside regular work hours, so it is special to see her during this time.  She put up Annemarie's  painting of the sun, done in acrylics after we ate. Below is a closeup and a shot further away.

Annemarie  Stokes's picture is the one on the right done in acrylics

Picture on my patio

Here is my most recent picture of Conner with his mom Meaghan, my granddaughter-in-law.

My wrist, hand and arm are coming along. Less pain every day. I have a bruise on my elbow which has been there since it happened. Next time I see Dr. Wong, I'll ask him about it. I haven't gotten a call from the therapist and I'll call her this next week to see if she got anything from Kaiser Permanente.  I was hoping to get a session in before heading back east to see my brother and my friend Lynn to know what I could be working on.  If not, I'll improvise. As Dr. Wong said, if you are limited in how much you can move a certain way, that's where you can work on to increase mobility.

That's it for the week. Hope to see you next Sunday.        Rachel