In Memoriam (by Maggie, dammit)
When I was in eighth grade I was jealous of this girl named Tracy. She attended a neighboring school and she was beautiful; long, dark hair, gorgeous eyes, thin. Our basketball teams played against each other and I used to watch her from my usual spot on the bench while my boyfriend watched her from the crowd. I wanted to be her. In that teenage angsty way, I wanted her life. I thought she had everything.
Four days ago, Tracy’s body was found in the trunk of her own car, along with the body of her two-year-old daughter. Across town, another beautiful young woman and her own 2-year-old daughter were found shot to death. The suspect, still at large, is the father of both dead children.
Today I’m feeling wretchedly grateful for a life that is mine, not anyone else’s. But I have to admit something awful. In times like this, my faith in what we’re doing here is shaken.
I’ve had a few days to stew inside this and I think, the older I get, the better I understand that faith is something that needs to be actively nurtured. You can’t just ignore it and expect it to be there when you need it. Much like love, it has to be nearly lost over and over again so that you’ll appreciate it, so that you’ll really know its worth. We have to want faith, actively fight for it, like a privilege instead of a right. We have to scrape ourselves out of bed when we just don’t want to. We have to stand up and fight another day.
Yes, I think I lost my faith for a few hours this weekend. Maybe even a day or two. But I am getting it together and I am working hard to believe and I am remembering every brave, gracious word ever printed on Violence UnSilenced, both by triumphant survivors and by you who support them. You are all so important. I know this is worthwhile work. I also know we may not ever see a resolution. I guess faith means continuing to do it anyway.
I’ve decided not to run survivor stories on Violence UnSilenced this week. Instead, I’ll be posting an interview with the executive director of Domestic Abuse Intervention Services.
I also want this week to serve as a place-marker in time for those who never had the opportunity to speak out here. I want to give a hat tip to their souls.
Tracy. Amber. Deja. Neveah. I pray you find the peace in your resting that was stolen from you in your life. Now that you’ve put your burden down, I hope the rest of us will pick it up.
Survivor stories will resume next week.
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Cross-posted at Okay, Fine, Dammit
49 Responses to “In Memoriam (by Maggie, dammit)”
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Amen.
*HUGS* to you maggie. THANK YOU for giving us a place to speak, encourage, and be the survivors we are… you’re in my thoughts.
You are doing something so good-proof is in the local paper in my town, where men make violence into a competition, discounting what women go through, lessening violence in any manner.
I’m so sorry Maggie-for these women, for you, for your faith.
Absolutely heartbreaking.
You are the gateway for so many to speak, share and feel safe. Thank you for that.
And I’ll join the prayers for those who weren’t able to be saved.
((((Maggie))))
I will say and remember their names. Tracy, Amber, Deja and Neveah. I will hold you and them and their families in my thoughts. You have done good work for me and for many other women. Please don’t let your faith be shaken. This site, and you are too vital to too many.
All my love,
Em
Please do not doubt that what you do matters. At times like this let us remind ourselves how crucial it is, every single thing any of us do to speak out against abuse and violence.
Thank you for creating this space and for using this week in memory of those whose voices are forever silenced.
I don’t know what to say today, just wanted you to know I’m here. I’m here.
*hugs*, Maggie.
The interview sounds great. Tips on how to spot DV among friends/neighbors would be really helpful. Thanks for all your work, Maggie.
I’m so sorry, Maggie. You are doing an amazing job and you should be so proud of all the good your site does. Keep fighting! We’re here loving and supporting you. Sending love to all the posters who have shared their stories and prayers for those who never had a chance to.
Thank you for this place Maggie. I can only hope that one day it isn’t needed. But if that day ever comes, it will be because of the work you’ve done giving voice to those silenced.
i read somewhere today that faith is not a noun. it is a verb.
i believe the same thing about hope.
you help in the good fight, maggie. you really do.
Thank you, Maggie, for creating this site and for keeping it going.
Tonight, after a long day of fussing, of what-am-I-doing-with-my-life-because-clearly-I-shouldn’t-be-mothering, of wondering what exactly it is that would make me happy, I came on here and saw your words and felt a little leap – of faith, of sorrow, of being aware.
Thank you. Maggie, I don’t think you know all the lives you touch.
I remember.
I remember all of it. I remember the first time you mentioned starting this project. It didn’t even have a name yet, but I could feel the energy behind it all the way down here in the sunny South.
I remember when it got its name, and the story you told as background to the announcement. A story so much like this one it chills me to the bone. A story so much like so many I’ve heard since then that sometimes I wonder if it’s doing any good at all.
Then I remember what I wrote myself in this post as a response:
“Resolution begins with awareness. And awareness means looking right into the teeth of the problem with unflinching courage and resolve.”
I remember the people who have so courageously contributed the stories — their stories — that make up the lifeblood of Violence UnSilenced. And I remember telling you that those stories are the lifeblood, but they need a heart to pump it.
I remember so.many of them who we told “keep these comments with you so that when you’re feeling shaky, you can take them out and read them again, over and over, until you feel steady again.”
And today? Today I’m going to offer you the same advice. Not the comments on this post necessarily, but the comments on all those that have come before it. Read those, read the writers’ reactions to them, and then ask yourself how precious this outlet is.
When I read this on OFD I said in my comment there that you may not know for years about some of the people this project has helped. Because they may not comment — may not be able to comment — on the post that saved them. But they are out there. I know this down in that place where I know stuff.
And that’s the place where faith comes from.
Much love to you my sister, not just for this, but for just being you.
How horrible!
Maggie, keep the faith. You’re doing such a great thing here. It’s a butterfly effect. You may never see the changes you’re making in people’s lives, but please know you ARE making a difference.
I am so, so sorry to hear this.
And what you wrote about actively nurturing faith—yes, a million times yes.
Maggie,
What you do is amazing. Thank you for everything you have done and everyone you have touched. I live where this awful tragedy happened. Absolutely heartbreaking. I wish I had something better to say….but thank you so much.
Thank you so much for all you do Maggie. It’s OK to need to heal.
Maggie, please don’t lose faith that what you do here is anything short of wonderful. So many people are encouraged through your efforts, to speak up and to speak out against such a vile part of our past and present, in the hopes of eradicating it in the future. Don’t lose faith. THIS is wonderful.
He has been found and cannot hurt anyone anymore. I hope that the families and friends of Tracy, Deja, Amber and Neveah are able to find some modicum of comfort in that, and that they are also able to find some peace in the knowledge that so many people they don’t even know surround them with loving thoughts at this tragic time.
And, now, also, to his family and friends. Yes, to his family and friends. His mother has been such a wonderful asset to the Madison community and to people as a whole. May his family find peace and comfort through this as well.
And to you, Maggie, much love to you. And a box of tissues for us all. {{{HUGS}}}
I remember a conversation I had with Pastor Dave (he married us) many years ago. A conversation about ‘faith’, and what it meant to have it. He likened the keeping of faith to a bank account. And, similar in fact to your own analogy, he said that it is not something that can continually be “withdrawn” without also making regular deposits. But Pastor Dave also pointed out that sometimes it’s necessary to get a little help from someone who cares about you. Someone who can make some “faith deposits” into your account when you just don’t have the ability to do it yourself. I think that is what VU does. It allows caring individuals to make a few “faith deposits” into the account of someone who greatly needs it. And it allows those who need to make withdrawals to do so without penalty. And that is a beautiful thing.
Keep doing what you are doing. There is enough faith and love here to go around – you don’t need to do it all.
It is heart-wrenching sometimes and painful and I know sometimes the ugly that’s out there in this world can make us all question our faith, our hopes, our belief. Don’t let them drown out your voice or the voices of all those willing to stand up and speak the truth.
(((u)))
There is nothing more important that any of us can do other than to keep on keepin’ on. We mourn those we lose. We celebrate those that find salvation. We pray that the lost find their way and that the violence ends. We keep on keepin’ on because it gives the voiceless a voice and the songless a song. We just keep on keepin’ on… Much love to you Miss Maggie. May your light continue to shine bright.
Once again, Maggie – you’ve made me cry, and I too am grateful in a wretched sickening way that my life, though hard as it can be, is mine.
God Bless those poor women and their babies. They are in my prayers, and my tears are for them.
This place, this YOU is amazing and quite an inspiration to many. You have created a safe place and we will remember those women and their children because of your hard work and dedication. HUGS.
Oh, honey…my heart
How awful. I could make an inappropriate cliched remark about perceptions and green grass, but I won’t.
I am so sad and sorry for the mothers and the poor sweet children who lost their lives this week, Maggie. I will remember them, of course I will.
Always know that this project is meaningful, it is so good and needed and precious. Because of you and VU I am finally facing what happened to me, although I am still writing my story to submit here and I know it may be a long time in line. Because of the awareness this site brought me, I am seeking treatment instead of continuing to self-medicate myself into oblivion.
I hold you in my heart today, along with Tracy, Deja, Amber and Neveah…and all the others who suffer.
those are such horrible things that happened
I hope they are all at peace right now.
it’s sad when people do things like that. my friend’s ex committed the same crime against another mother & his child, I thank God that he was caught very shortly after and that my friend and her son are ok (as ok as they can be) he never really had to pay for it though, he hung himself in jail the next day.
remember this: Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it.
every story here is a testament to that.
thank you for all that you do.
It is SO hard to see these stories. They definitely shake your faith. I know that mine could very well have ended that way, too, but for whatever reason, I was spared. I wonder sometimes why I was among the lucky.
It’s just a less than subtle reminder of how every day really IS a gift and it’s up to us to do the most with it.
Thank you for living up to that every day!
oh, dear god.
Maggie, I understand how you are shaken to the very core – but your work is giving voice to those fortunate enough to still be here to speak out and receive kindness in return. Big hugs to you Maggie – please keep up the fabulous work.
What you’re doing here has real value, not only for the survivors who’ve found a forum to share their stories, but for the rest of us, who can come here to learn and grow and spread the word. Horrible things will always happen, bad people will always be out there to shake our faith in humanity, but don’t ever doubt that what you’re doing is making a difference. It is, and it does, and it will as long as you’re here to make it happen.
Oh Maggie, reading this makes my heart hurt. Love and hugs to you.
Oh no. I’m so sorry. Sorry they didn’t make it out. But this site? Gives me hope…there are so many survivors out there…
Although we don’t know each other, I hope you’ll accept my virtual hug.
It always amazes me how many survivors there are. Shouldn’t family violence be an anomaly? Instead, it is far, far too commonplace. We need places to gather. Like right here.
As the Mom of Tracy and the Grandmother of Deja, it is comforting to know there is someone such as Maggie that is trying to get the message out about how much violence there is as well as how to identify these victims of abuse before they end up like Tracy and Deja . Family and friends of Tracy’s did not have any idea the relationship she was in had the potential of ending in the death of her and her daughter. I hope and pray if you are reading this and you see yourself in a potentially harmful situation, you will ask for help from someone or some organization to get out and to stay away from your abuser. Even though we are a very close family, it is very sad we did not recognize the signs that were there. Our family is hoping to help in identifiying abusers before you, the victims, are seriously injured or killed. With a very sad heart, I plead with you to ask for help now before your abuse escalates and ends in tradegy.
dear Dianne…the post had brought me to tears anyway, but your comment…your grace and sorrow and terrible hurt…leave me wordless, trying to breathe.
all i want to say is that i am so very, very sorry, and that i send you – and Tracy and Deja – love and peace.
Diane:
I am so sorry that your family is suffering this horrible tragedy. I’m amazed at your courage to reach out to others that might be in the same situation. Your heart must hurt in the deepest way and here you are, sharing and reaching out so that others don’t hurt that way.
Tracy and Deja were blessed to have had you in their lives.
Peace and Love.
Diane,
My heart goes out to you in the biggest way. I have no doubt that Tracy and Deja were really special people, because people have been saying so for weeks, from Madison to Mount Horeb to Platteville and beyond.
Thank you for commenting here. Your words may change the course of someone’s life, may even save it. You didn’t have to reach out in the midst of your pain and yet you did, and I deeply commend you for that.
I am sending huge waves of peace, love, and support to you and your family. My prayers are still with Tracy and Deja, and Amber and Nevaeh.
Sarah Miller
Diane, I’m so, so sorry for the loss your family has endured and the grief you are suffering. That you are reaching out to others by your comment at this time is so wonderfully selfless. God bless you all, and again, my condolences on the loss of Tracy and Deja.
Diane…I’m so deeply sorry. We lift you up. There are no other words.
Diane: Please accept my deepest sympathies for your tragic loss.
Maggie: You break my heart every week here.
Some days I swear I can’t ever come back. Can’t read about one more violent act. Can’t bleed with one more survivor. Can’t dip any deeper into my well of empathy and compassion without one day coming up empty and hollow.
And yet, I do keep coming back.
Because this place you’ve created is not a pit of despair – it’s a a vessel of hope. It’s a celebration of survival. It’s a call to action. It’s one voice and one voice and one voice … joined in a chorus of compassion and optimism.
Thank you for your continued faith and for sharing it with the rest of us.
Please, keep breaking my heart.
[...] December 3, 2009, Tracy and Deja Judd were brutally murdered by Deja’s father. He also killed Amber Weigel and their young daughter, Nevaeh, before [...]
Amen.
This post is a beautiful prayer. Only God knows the “why” of things. From my own experience: in the long run, having my faith shaken helped me grow stronger in my faith.
I pray that these deaths are not senseless. The suffering of these women and their children has ended. I believe they were spared something worse and they are in a better place.
And by your ministry, you are helping spread the word and increase awareness. I pray for all of the men, women and children in bad situations. I pray for everyone who might be in a position to help save them.
These sad tragedies are very reason we needed this space, a place where the abused had voices, a place where the survivors can give hope and say I’ve been where you are, keep going…it gets better. For all those who never had a chance to break the silence – we hear you loud and clear, we won’t forget. Promise. (Hugs)Indigo
So sad. This is a wonderful space you provide. Please remember that!
Virtual HUGS.
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