Day 296 I don’t even really know what to write today. I started sharing these updates as we approached day 100, hoping maybe the hundredth day would be the one. When that milestone came and went, I silently looked to day 200. Now, a small part of me foolishly hopes somewhere around day 300 will be the one where I have answers about how my mom died. I try to keep updates positive, look on the bright side and find reasons to just be grateful my mom was exhumed and modern forensics are getting answers I’ve waited my entire life to know — but it’s hard. It’s really, really, ridiculously hard to wake up every day and be hit by this reality. Part of me feels bad for feeling frustrated when I know so many other families would give anything to have their loved one’s case make it this far. Part of me feels bad complaining when I know my mom’s forensic tests aren’t the only ones in process; she’s no more important than anyone else. But she’s my mom. Her remains were removed from her grave and now she’s sitting in the morgue while some lab — and I don’t even know which one — handles her forensic tests. I can’t visit her final resting place because she doesn’t have one right now. I know she’s always with me, but it hurts to not be able to be close to her. I used to have this ritual of getting an iced coffee, then spending time pruning her flowers and cleaning her stone on weekend mornings, my weird way of visiting my mom, and now I can’t even do that. I can’t visit with her. For over two years I fought so hard to get her case reopened. I poured absolutely everything I had into the investigation, sacrificing sleep, time with family and friends and putting myself into sometimes dangerous situations to push her case forward. I know her case inside out, can tell you names and dates, historical details, exact quotes of things she wrote in journals that are now with the police. I’ve paid $80 a month to keep her belongings safe in storage, just in case they’re ever needed for evidence. I’ve met with experts, witnesses, people she knew in life. I’ve done absolutely everything in my power to solve her death. And now there’s nothing more I can do. There’s no way for me to make the process go faster or even get a real answer about why it’s taking so long. I hear rumors about some things but can’t get those confirmed. I’m given timeframes that come and go, to the point where I don’t even believe new timeframes I’m told because it’s been almost a year when I was initially told “four to five weeks.” All I can do is hope the waiting means something good, that this Hail Mary effort for my mom’s case is the one that wins, that some scientific miracle happens and all the effort wasn’t for nothing. Hope is a funny thing…It’s like this last defense between joy and despair, a thin line separating a feeling of success from absolute failure. I cling to hope. I allow myself to feel it, the only thing that keeps me moving forward while the day count continues to rise. I hope, I hope, I hope. #day296 #justiceforlorilee #teamsleddog #lorileemalloy