Today I took a ride to the place where Megan Duncanson Dix was murdered on August 25, 2017.
I unfortunately didn't know Megan, but I know so many women like her here in our small community: a beloved wife, mom, sister, daughter and friend; a hardworking employee and kind person doing her part to make the world a better place.
I also know that Megan could have been any of us that horrific Friday afternoon.
Any one of us could have pulled into that quiet, little parking lot to eat our lunch, answer a phone call, walk our dog or leave our car there while we went for a run on the canal...
It wasn't us, though, it was Megan.
And, for as much as her murder has shaken all of us, it's her husband, her little boy, her family, her friends and her co-workers who have lost a piece of themselves. Forever.
A few nights ago I got sucked into a dark hole watching all of the videos made and posted online by the individual charged with killing Megan. It was hard to stop, but at a certain point I had to. I felt sick. I felt my focus turning closer to the accused, than to the victim...victims of this horrid crime.
That's why I took a ride today.
A week later on a Friday afternoon, the sun was shining through the trees right onto the spot where Megan's life was so senselessly taken. There were squirrels playing, the hum of a tractor in the distance, a couple walking their dog. I didn't see any deer. I read Megan liked sitting in this place and watching the deer.
There was a memorial of flowers and candles and handwritten notes lovingly arranged in the spot. I placed a big, bright pink flower among them. From what I've learned of Megan, the color seemed to be her personality - vibrant and remarkable. I attached a note to the stem that said: "Brockport loves you Megan," said a prayer and promised to come again.