My name is Meg Fischer and I never imagined my life would be shaped by the aftermath of a triple homicide. In the Fall of 2023, my cousin, her ten-month-old son, and her unborn daughter were murdered by her husband. I am a member of the Cross Kicks community, mother of three young children, a professional in healthcare advocacy, and someone who deeply believes in the goodness of people. But late in 2023, I answered the phone early one morning and heard a sentence that will echo in my ears for the rest of my life. I was told, “Jeremy killed Kali. He took the baby, and no one knows where he is.”
In the days that followed, I left my kids and husband and drove across the country to stand in the middle of my cousin’s shattered future. I was one of the family members who offered support in handling the aftermath. We sat through hearings, answered questions from reporters and navigated the painful logistics that follow a homicide.
I’ve searched to find a way for the power of this grief to give more than it takes. To reflect on how we got here and look for opportunities where the outcome could have changed. She was strong, brilliant, and confident. She was also being bullied, manipulated, and controlled. I often wonder if the right conversation with someone she respected and trusted would have changed anything — everything.
It can sometimes seem overwhelming to think about how to make an impact against intimate partner violence and the devastation it leaves in its wake. What I have concluded is that how I choose to show-up for the people around me can be what makes the biggest difference. Encouraging others to show up in the same way might just be what tips the scales.
I strive to be someone’s soft place to land. The space that is free of judgement. Free of criticism. Free of blame. I often wonder if Kali knew I would have been that place for her. Did she know I would have moved heaven and earth for her. I carry guilt everyday that I could have done more, reached out more, made sure she knew I was fiercely in her corner. At times when I could have said something, I’m sure I held back for fear that she would push me away. In the end, I lost her anyway.
There is no right way to let someone know that you are their safe harbor, but what I encourage is that when you look at the people around you, think of Kali. Think of Zeke and Freya. You never know the secret battles the people around you might be fighting, and they may never need your support. But what I can tell you with certainty is that you will never regret making sure they know you will be there for them, even if they never need it.