On Tuesday, January 27, 2015, my husband committed suicide, and I found him the next morning on the side of the road. We were only married for 22 months and 11 days. This crushed me to the core. I never accepted the fact. His family blamed me for his suicide.
Then, on Tuesday, September 10, 2019, my firstborn, Tre’Quan Malik Hickmon, was murdered in front of my sister and her children. He was shot twice by a person he trusted as a friend. There are a lot of stories that are going around, but I still don’t know. I’m still waiting to have his trial, and I just want justice. I still haven’t accepted that he’s gone. I still look for him to come home or call me at noon every day.
Tre’s murder really has taken a toll on me. I feel like my life has stopped, and a half of me went with him. I have thought about suicide three times between these two deaths, but I have to keep telling myself I still have two more young men I have to live for.
This has been a long road and a rollercoaster for me. I miss them so much.