Within two weeks after my sister’s death, I knew, as did my husband, that I was not in a good place. I felt like I was walking around the edge of a big black hole. One missed step and I would fall into that hole.  My husband gently suggested I go see my doctor. I heeded his advice and saw my doctor the very next day. She put me on an anti-depressant and set up my first appointment with a therapist.

On my first visit, the therapist and I talked about my sister’s death, the tragic way in which she died.  I shared some of my darkest thoughts with the therapist. My sister was murdered, in her home, brutally stabbed to death.

I talked about how I thought about her crying out, begging for her life. I talked about the way she fought for her life. I talked about the fear and terror she felt before taking her last breath. I talked about her dying alone.  Towards the end of the session, my therapist looked at me and said, “There is a quote that comes to mind that I think you will understand. A quote by Winston Churchill. ‘When you think you are going through hell, keep walking.’”

I looked at my therapist. I understood what the quote meant, at least what it meant to me. The therapist told me that I too would keep walking. Slow small steps. She reminded me it would be a long walk and to take my time.

As I drove home that day, I thought about that quote. I also thought how it felt like I was going through hell. Keep walking. The phrase stuck in my mind. Over the next weeks and months, I kept walking. Early on, walking meant getting off the couch and getting dressed. Eventually walking meant doing a load of laundry and fixing myself something to eat. Walking meant facing each day, doing something, anything.  Week after week, month after month, I felt myself straying a little farther away from the edge of that black hole.

Six months after my sister’s murder, an arrest was made. I was able to take a few more steps away from that black hole.

It has been a very slow process. I’ve learned patience not only with myself, but with others and the justice system. The black hole is still there, albeit it appears much smaller now. I’ve moved farther and farther away from that hole.  I know it wouldn’t take much for me to slide closer to that hole again, but I keep walking. Every day I keep walking by working, writing, honoring my sister.  The black hole will always be there, but as long as it is just a small speck on the horizon, I know I’m walking and I’m winning the battle.

Everyday I think of that quote. Everyday I tell myself….keep walking.

Shirley Wiles-Dickinson 2011

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Shirley Wiles-Dickinson

Shirley Wiles-Dickinson is the youngest of four girls in a Midwestern family. In 2009, her sister was brutally murdered. She writes about her experience following this loss.

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