My father was born September 4th 1951 so this week would have been his 55th birthday. It’s amazing to think that though he was murdered 20 years ago, had he been alive today he would have been so young. At 55 he would have been still at the height of his career. I have no doubt that he would have been extremely successful, since he had proven in his short life to be extremely creative and ambitious in business. More importantly he would have been a proud Grandfather, still young enough to really enjoy his grandkids.

It never ceases to take my breath away when I really think about what had happened, how it happened and the ramifications of it all. The sadness of his body being hidden all these years and his family not knowing, is just too much to bear at times. I can only imagine the agony and torment his soul felt from above watching his wife and kids suffer with no grave to turn to. He must have somehow influenced our move to Brooklyn, for how else can you explain our renting an apartment one block from his hidden body.

The pain comes and goes. Life can be so hectic. Days could go by where I don’t think about what had occurred. But then something comes up…my son reciting the numbers in Hungarian (my father’s mother tongue…how proud he would be) or the clock blinking 12:06 (the old address belonging to my childhood home that we lost) or my husband throwing my kids up in the air as they screech with pure joy (my Dad used to do that to us too) and the sadness seeps into my soul. It usually lasts for just a second and then life distracts me, but if I let myself think or if my mind wanders to the past, the horror that this really did happen to me and my family astonishes me, sending chills up and down my spine and causing me to shudder.

I know my father would be proud of how we all survived the living nightmare we experienced, but surviving does not mean the battle scars aren’t there. I wonder if the “bewilderment” and “shock” of what happened will ever fade to the point where I can look at a clock when it strikes 12:06 and not think about my past. Somehow I know that the pain and heaviness will always remain within all of us. It will be a constant companion, even in moments of joy, for it is precisely those joyous times when you think about what was lost.

Abba… Know that we miss you very much and though your life was brief, you left behind your legacy and memories that will never fade. We will never and can never forget you and your story. And one day, of this I am certain, we will make something good come out of the evil that was done to you..