Margaret's Story

"At 12:30 on June 10th, I was awakened by a doctor calling me from City Hospital, telling me that my son had been stabbed. Since I was alone, he arranged for the police to pick me up. There were three policemen in the car. They didn't speak a word to me but chatted with each other as if I weren't even there. The first hospital that I was taken to was the Cambridge City Hospital. Looking back, they were really great. They had a crisis center counselor thee, and she put her arm around me while the doctor told me what condition John was in. They had decided to move him to the Massachusetts General. When I arrived there I was immediately asked whether I had Blue Cross/Blue Shield and put in a room by myself. I remember saying the Hail Mary out loud. That was something I hadn't done in a long time. My heart was pounding."

"A doctor came into the room and matter-of-factly told me, "Your son has expired." I ran outside the hospital and I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. Thank God I was able to do that. Then my defense system took over and I was anesthetized. From the moment he died, I was consumed by the loss. I just couldn't be concerned about how he had died; it was just that he had died."

"I was told by my brother that a probable cause hearing was being held and that later a grand jury hearing would take place. During this time, the person who had stabbed my son was in custody and had been since the night of the murder. I read in the paper that sufficient evidence was found to have him stand trial. I was under the delusion that I would be notified when the trial was to begin. Not so. At the trial I was totally ignored. I was the person who was the most deeply affected by the crime, and yet I was treated as if I didn't exist."

"I thought grief was some psychiatric term. I really didn't know that grief was something that everybody experienced when they lost someone, because people didn't talk about grief. I kept wondering would I ever feel better again. I kept asking people whether anyone ever recovered from it. No one was able to give me an answer."

Six months after her son's murder, Margaret wrote, "I'm in agony. My son is dead and I will never see him again. For the first time since he died, I feel as if I can't stand it. I can't get him out of my mind. I feel like screaming all the time. I feel very angry towards people. I guess I'm not getting any special treatment any longer and I think I should. What I'm contending with is so intense; I can't believe I can go to work. It almost feels worse now than before. People ignore the facts of my life. They expect me to be happy."

As one Survivor puts it, "None of us grieve alike because there are so many different circumstances that surround our grief."