Her Name Was Joyce

Her name was Joyce and I met her when I was 21 and through my now ex-husband. She was older than most of us but still young enough to hang-out. She referred to my ex as her little brother, they were close in that way. When I would go to her house, she would sit with me and open up about life, her life - she said I was easy to talk to and really couldn't tell these things to someone else. 

One of my ex husband's best friends ended up dating her.  I never liked him. He had also dated one of my best friends -there was always something about him I couldn't stand. We didn't get along. 

Joyce is no longer on this Earth. She died young. In her 30s. It was a painful death and one that shouldn't have happened the way it did with her lingering in a hospital on life support because of the night that best friend of my ex-husband took a car door and repeatedly slammed it on her head. 

She was killed by intimate partner abuse also known as domestic violence. 

She was the first person I ever knew who was murdered and also the first victim of abuse I knew who was killed by it. 

I woke up this morning with her name in my head. It has been decades since I've reflected back on these memories and probably because it was all too close to home for me...too close as I lived the DV life - Joyce could have easily been me. 

Today is also the kick-off to the National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. 

Maybe Joyce is calling out and asking "Please don't forget me" 

I won't 

So, this morning's coffee thoughts are in memory of Joyce.  I hope she finds peace and I hope her story hit home with someone else - she never walked away, you can. 

As for the a$$hole who murdered her, he sits in an Illinois prison with a projected release date of 10/14/2046 - too soon for what he did. 

He took a mother away from her daughters and son as well as future grandchildren. He played God and lost but so did everyone who cared for Joyce. 

May she rest in peace.

Be Well 💜💜💜