(In Memory of Dorothy Giunta-Cotter, murdered by her husband March 26, 2002) 

You’ve taken my body, but you can’t touch my soul.
You tried to eliminate me—you failed. 

You took away my dreams, but my hope still lives.
You thought you killed me—you didn’t. 

You see, I’m still here. I’m here in my children’s smile.
I’m here in the small ways I’ve touched others:
     Friends remember me for my laughter, my tears;
     Family remember me for my strengths, my weaknesses;
     Passers-by remember me for a smile brought on by Victory over fear. 

I’ve changed lives (in many small ways) by the gifts I brought to those more deserving than you—
     Music to those who couldn’t dance;
     Love to those who felt no touch;
     Color to those who could not see;
     Laughter to those who could but cry. 

People will remember me when I’m gone. I doubt they will remember you, except as a faceless name that could do nothing but kill. What talent lies in that? 

You will be forgotten. 

But I am still here, in those who will stand up and fight against what you have done—in those who will remember me and not let others forget. 

You tried to eliminate me. You failed. 


©2002 Kathy Jones, DVSur5r

(For more on Dorothy’s story, go to  http://barriosblog.typepad.com/barriosblog/2007/01/he_should_leave.html)