I’ll never forget the night. I was watching TV with my family when there was a knock at the door. Two men in suits – detectives. My parents spoke quietly with them outside before asking my brother and I to go to a neighbour’s house while they did something important.
I suspected it was serious but I wasn’t prepared for the news: my mother and father had been to the morgue to identify the body of my sister. My father sat sobbing on the floor with his head in his hands as he told my brother and I that Karen was dead. She had been stabbed and they didn’t know by whom.
It’s difficult to describe what that shock feels like at age 17. At first it was disbelief, then sadness, emptiness, denial, fear, anger. Lastly, numbness.
The weeks that followed were a blur. We suspected it was Karen’s boyfriend. So did the police; he had gone into hiding. We were interviewed and the story was released to the media to help with the investigation. I remember breaking down in tears when I saw a photo of Karen on the front page of the newspaper. For me, that made it real.
It’s difficult to describe what that shock feels like at age 17. We suspected it was Karen’s boyfriend. So did the police
It was a big funeral. I remember seeing everyone I knew there, people from past and present, relatives, neighbours, school teachers and school friends, work colleagues, family friends – all the people I had ever known and many more I didn’t know. It felt like a dream but it was comforting to see all of those people.
Back at school, everything was different. I had a large group of friends who were supportive and I felt very lucky to have had them around. It was difficult for them too, because they didn’t know what to say or how to act, for fear they would say or do the wrong thing. Many avoided talking about it and acted as normal. I remember one girl, who I had known since the age of five, came up to me and said she was sorry to hear what had happened. It took great courage and this meant a lot to me.
Then, they caught him.
He was arrested by transit police while travelling by train. I expected to feel some sort of relief at this news but it never really came. He was sentenced to 15 years, locked away, and that was the end of that.
Ten years went by and we all got on with our lives. I started work, moved out of home, travelled the world and led a normal life. But the sorrow never went away and I always felt a sense of emptiness because there were so many unanswered questions.
In 2000, when I was 28, we received a letter from the restorative justice department asking if our family would be interested in attending a victim-offender conference. It’s where victims and offenders have the opportunity to meet face to face in a safe and supported environment.
Ten years went by ... but the sorrow never went away and I always felt a sense of emptiness
I was open to the idea. It couldn’t be as bad as what I’d already been through, so I agreed to go. After a few meetings with facilitators and after doing a bit of research, the rest of my family agreed to go as well.
We arrived at a neutral location, a community centre halfway between us and the prison. We all walked into a very small room set up with a circle of chairs. No police, no bars, no cages – just chairs.
Then he came in. And seeing him for the first time was very confronting, I wasn’t really sure how to act being in such close proximity to the man who killed my sister. We all sat down and the facilitator then introduced everyone and the process began.
We all had the opportunity to talk, to ask questions. “Why did you kill Karen? What were you thinking?” He had no answers for us; he said he didn’t know why he killed her and that he couldn’t remember the details of that day.
For our family, this was unacceptable – we had come for answers.
My father was angry and I felt angry too. Dad stood up and demanded that he tell us why. A ball of anger formed in the pit of my stomach and forced itself up and out of my mouth. I stood up and shouted: “You fucking coward.”
It felt good, really good, to get that anger out after 10 years. I didn’t even know I had it, but I knew after it came out.
For me, it was a healing experience. It allowed me to let go of the anger and see the world differently. It didn’t bring back Karen but it did bring me back to a point where I can now forgive him. That may sound strange to some people, but I’ve learnt that forgiveness is not about the perpetrator, it about you. It’s about you letting go of the stuff that holds you back so you can live a happy and fulfilling life.
Dan is a guest on Insight's Making Amends program at 8.30pm on SBS, which asks whether it’s possible for people to make up for mistakes they have made.
