Connie Shin

So most times I just started to cry.

Or other times I would get angry at them for even asking such a thing.

And I would say, I don't have a dad.

And that felt like a true statement to me because I didn't have memories of my dad.

I wanted to know things.

I wish people said, wow, you look just like your dad.

You smile like your dad.

You run like your dad.

But nobody ever said anything.

So I didn't say anything.

And the silence went on for decades.

But then in March of 2020, completely out of the blue,

I received a phone call from the Baltimore City State Attorney's Office informing me that the man who killed my dad was appealing his sentence and that somebody in my family could write a victim impact statement and read it at his hearing.

Also in 2020, I was turning 32 and it was messing with my head big time.

I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I was turning the age my dad was when he died.

I became fixated on this idea of turning 32, but completely dreading it.

I was so obsessed with the number 32 that I had a friend tattoo it on me that year.

Turning 32 just felt so symbolic.

I mean, the same year I'm turning this age that my dad was when he died, I might meet the man who killed him.

I knew I needed to do something big to acknowledge this birthday.