Can I?

I emailed a friend of mine (I always hate to say writer friend, because that is sort of silly), and--in the usual moment of doubt--said, "Do you think I can write this book?"

He said, "Yes. Now write this...and use everything you have been through in life to put yourself in Asha's shoes, in the shoes of people who loved her, and love her still, and everyone who has experienced the gaping hole left by her absence in the world."  I think what stalls me at times is the true survivor's guilt I have.  She is gone, and I am here.

I feel that Asha was put in harm's way because, at her place of employment, the market management had far too much sympathy for McClish, a married man with three kids to feed, and gave him a job even though he had been let go for sexual harrassment at another store--harrassment of an underage girl, by the way.  I know that some of the people at the market had known him since he was a child, and their sympathy strings got twanged.  McClish routinely displayed inappropriate behavior at the market, and raped a woman while he was employed there.  He remained on payroll for months after he was arrested.  There was NO reward posted for Asha by the market--granted, she was found a few days after her disappearance, but still--they had the means, so why not offer a reward? Her grieving husband opened a memorial fund after she was found and he gave every dime to the Walnut Avenue Women's Center, which helps women in domestic violence situation.  Where was the memorial fund from her workplace?  She was a diligent, well-liked employee.

It underscores to me that perhaps a business reputation was cared about much more than a lovely young pregnant woman who had given a great deal of her time, effort, and work ethic to this place.  It is sad, and a travesty....but, as a woman, it does not surprise me if this was the case.

Don't worry, Asha.  I really will not let you down.  I will write this book and no one will forget you, or your baby, or the people who really love you still.  I promise.