Thirty-seven years ago, Ryan Nourai’s mother was kidnapped, brutalized, and shot in the head. She would go on to have a son, with whom she shared some—if not all—of what she had endured. Now, after her death, Nourai writes how he came back to her ordeal, tracing her steps and even tracking down the men responsible. A tough read at times, but a tender one.
After my mother died, the incident remained, hanging over everything. Because those twenty-four hours were so horrific and so influential on her life as well as mine, which made them feel both unresolved and dynamic, I fixated on the incident more than I grieved her death. As months passed, then years, I came to believe I could learn about my mother by learning about the incident. Did she find the strength to survive in the faith that she might eventually raise a child? If I could find out the make of the gun, could I know if our relationship ever dulled her pain or chased her nightmares? If I found the names of the two men who shot her, would I feel closer to my mother or further away?
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