33

Happy birthday, Kell!

Today you would have been 33 years old.  I wonder how you would have spent this day.  Maybe you'd have been too busy at work to celebrate and would have deferred to the weekend.  Maybe you would have had dinner with your husband and children.  Maybe you'd be on the other side of the world in Australia.  Maybe you'd be the television producer you dreamed of becoming.  Maybe you'd have decided to stick with education and become a teacher.

Who knows? I sure wish we could have found out what life had in store for you.

I miss you, Kell.  I wish there was one more birthday celebration to be had together.  I'd give the world to plan another surprise party for you.  Or take you out for dinner.  I'd give the world for you to have had a few more years.  You deserved more than this.

Happy birthday to my dear friend.  Please know that those of us left behind still think of you often and miss you dearly.

Love,
Rachel

Scary Crime Statistics

I just read a chilling and fascinating article in the Washington Post about a man who was accused of killing his identical twin brother.  The lengthy trial ended without a unanimous verdict because of the lack of evidence in the case (the brothers shared DNA).  If you read the article you can acutely feel the young man's pain.  He lost his identical twin brother and then had to suffer the pain of being falsely accused of his murder.

The article offers a chilling illustration of the relationship victims have with their killers.  There were 12,996 murders in the United States in 2010.  In half of these cases (5,724), the relationship of the victim to the killer is unknown.  Of the homicides where the relationship is known, only 1,615 victims were killed by a stranger.  Forty-four percent of these victims were killed by someone they knew.  An acquaintance, a neighbor, a friend, or a family member.  Nineteen percent of these victims were killed by a family member--husband, wife, son, daughter, father, mother, brother, sister, boyfriend, girlfriend, cousin, aunt, or uncle.

Such a sad, sad statistic.