20 Years Today

20 years!!! That's how long it has been since you walked out our door, kissed me goodbye, and promised to see me later. You never did. 

That night 20 years ago, you went out with Philip Lam and his friend, Dr. Farouk Lu, for what was supposed to be an ordinary boys' night out. It should have been nothing more than laughter, stories, camaraderie. But none of you came back.

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For years, the details of that night were shrouded in mystery, whispers and silence. Then, piece by piece, the truth began to emerge. According to accounts, Philip Lam was targeted because of a business rivalry- nothing more than a general merchandise store, NOT DRUGS OR CRIME. You and Dr. Lu were nothing more than "collateral damage." The lives of good, innocent men reduced to a cold, heartless term.

How can someone's life, someone's love, be reduced to two cold, empty words? How can anyone justify taking three lives as if they were nothing, as if their laughter, their dreams, their families didn't matter?

I remember pleading for James' life, begging for his safe return. In my desperation, I made a promise to stay silent if only they would let him come back to us alive. But silence didn't save him. It didn't save any of them. And here I am, two decades later, still waiting for the truth, for answers, for justice. 

They tell you time heals all wounds, BUT THAT'S A LIE! Time doesn't heal wounds like this. Time only deepens the ache of knowing that those responsible walk free, that promises of justice remain empty, that the world continues to turn as if their lives didn't matter. But they mattered. JAMES MATTERED.

It doesn't dull the ache of an empty chair at the dinner table. It doesn't soften the weight of unanswered questions or the LONGING OF ONE MORE EMBRACE, ONE MORE SMILE, ONE MORE MOMENT. Time doesn't heal when justice is denied. 

For 20 years, I've been WAITING. WATCHING. HOPING. Everyday, I've held onto the belief that someday, the truth would fully emerge, that someone, somewhere, would care enough to bring justice for James, Philip and Dr. Farouk. The prescription period may have passed, but God's promise to me has not.

I have not forgotten. I can't forget. And I won't stop telling this story because their lives deserve more than silence.

James was not just collateral damage. He was my first love and childhood sweetheart for 11 years, my husband for another 11 years, and the father of my three children. He was kind, generous to a fault, and full of life. In fact, that year in 2005, we planned a grand celebration - for the first time in his life- of a birthday party in September - his 40th. But alas, we lost him in January. 

To those who think time erases accountability, I want you to know: JUSTICE HAS NO EXPIRATION IN THE HEARTS OF THOSE WHO LOVE. I will keep remembering. I will keep speaking his name - JAMES LAO YAP - until the world recognizes and remembers what was taken from us. 

A pocketful of sunshine and