After telling all of you the story of the man who stalked me, my need for closure got the best of me.

For years, I hadn’t really given my stalker too much thought. He had never tried to contact me, and since I live hundreds of miles away, I felt safe from him. Plus, I am now remarried, and he would have no way to find my new name. So I decided to look for him.I found him. He is dead. I can’t say I am sad to hear that. He died in 2011, alone, in a VA hospital. Reading his obituary, I felt so many emotions flood over me. His picture was attached. Even though he was 15 years older in the picture than when I last saw him, I recognized him immediately. I found myself being taken back to the fear and anxiety that riddled me in those days. I remember how he always wore overalls or jeans with a plaid shirt or tank top. Always wore work boots. Always wore a ball cap. In the winter, he wore a dark Carhartt jacket. He drove a dark blue extended cab Chevy S10. And he had a dog. A white terrier with brown spots.

Even though he was 15 years older in the picture than when I last saw him, I recognized him immediately. I found myself being taken back to the fear and anxiety that riddled me in those days.

And then I began reading more about this man. This man who terrorized me. His wife was an Italian immigrant from New York City. He married her when he was in the Navy. He served 30 years before retiring. His son died in 1979 when he was in his 20s. Mel had no other family other than his in-laws. Here’s the sad part. His wife died two  months after I moved away. She had spent 15 months in a nursing home due to his beating, and she never recovered. She died from injuries she had sustained from a beating. Of course, his obituary didn’t say that.They were married for over 40 years when she died. Most likely, 40 horrible years full of abuse and torture. The dread with which he filled me was her life. I can’t even imagine that. In the beginning, she at least had her son. But after he died, she lived another 20 years alone with Mel. My heart breaks for her. I also wonder if she knew he stalked me. Was she aware? Or was she so terrified of him that she was just thankful the attention was focused on someone else for a change?This is what is wrong with our culture. Women like his wife who live their lives not having a way out. Women like my mother, who allowed her mind to be brainwashed by abusive vitriol. And men like my father and like Mel, who continue to take what they want just because they want it. When does it end? How can we empower others to see through the ruse of abuse and lies?

I also wonder if she knew he stalked me. Was she aware? Or was she so terrified of him that she was just thankful the attention was focused on someone else for a change?

Was finding Mel healthy for me? It doesn’t feel that way right now. I cried and then dreamed about him last night. Maybe I should have just left it alone. But I guess I wanted to know he was no longer able to stalk anyone else. So I guess I’ll just let Mel die. I’m sure there are many more like him out there.And then maybe in a few weeks, I’ll be able to say I put this whole time of my life to rest. I do know that I’ve never fully recovered. I still feel anxious when I’m alone, and I think I made my daughter fearful because of my own fear. Having a stalker changed me. Mel changed me. But I’m taking that power back today.