I just found out a couple of days ago that my aunt (she was the sister of my uncle) died two years ago.
This is significant because when I was little I used to go to her house during the time the abuse would have occurred. I remember her actually and I remember having a good time sitting in her kitchen watching her as she cooked or cleaned or whatever. She was always nice to me. It had occurred to me recently that if I could find her, I could ask her questions about that time period and perhaps get some answers as we all lived in the same town back then. That opportunity is now gone. I don’t really feel anything about it and I’m not sure why. Maybe there’s nothing to feel. I just know that if I had been dealing with this stuff a few years earlier, she would have been alive and I could have talked to her. My own fault.