A new story
Is this the closure we were waiting for?
Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I received a call from the media asking whether I had heard the news: Mark Edward Grant—the man accused of murdering our daughter—was being held in custody in Vancouver.
Apparently on January 8, Grant had been arrested for taking a young woman against her will - and was now being charged with unlawful confinement, sexual assault, and uttering threats. It was the phrase “unlawful confinement” that undid me. Those words carried me back forty-one years, to the moment we were told that our daughter had died while being held against her will. “Unlawful confinement.” And if a person dies - it is considered first degree murder,
I remind myself that an arrest is not a conviction. The case has not been proven. Nothing is certain; these are allegations. And yet, for the first time in many years, there is a quiet, cautious hope that we may be closer to the truth. Truth—though it must always be discerned carefully—is beautiful, and it has the power to heal.
And then the tears came.
Those words--unlawful confinement—opened the door to memory. I felt again the loneliness Candace must have endured that night so many years ago. The isolation. The terror of being threatened. Grief, it seems, does not fade with time; it waits, and when named, it speaks.
Now another girl had experienced the same. I ache for her - I ache for her family.... I just ache,
Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I received a call from the media asking whether I had heard the news: Mark Edward Grant—the man accused of murdering our daughter—was being held in custody in Vancouver.
Apparently on January 8, Grant had been arrested for taking a young woman against her will - and was now being charged with unlawful confinement, sexual assault, and uttering threats. It was the phrase “unlawful confinement” that undid me. Those words carried me back forty-one years, to the moment we were told that our daughter had died while being held against her will. “Unlawful confinement.” And if a person dies - it is considered first degree murder,
I remind myself that an arrest is not a conviction. The case has not been proven. Nothing is certain; these are allegations. And yet, for the first time in many years, there is a quiet, cautious hope that we may be closer to the truth. Truth—though it must always be discerned carefully—is beautiful, and it has the power to heal.
And then the tears came.
Those words--unlawful confinement—opened the door to memory. I felt again the loneliness Candace must have endured that night so many years ago. The isolation. The terror of being threatened. Grief, it seems, does not fade with time; it waits, and when named, it speaks.
Now another girl had experienced the same. I ache for her - I ache for her family.... I just ache,
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