By Rod Day

Dearest Danice,

Once again, I am compelled to speak to you on paper. I am looking at the calendar I have on my desk that is solely dedicated to keeping track of the many days and weeks that have passed since you first became "missing" (285 days-nearly 41 weeks!).

Even though I know that there is no way to convey to you the continued heartbreak and sadness that we (your family, your babies, and your friends) feel, I want you to know that we still pray daily for some closure to this nightmare. Little Joshua has begun to ask more and more questions concerning the whereabouts of his Mommie. Judy and I finally had to break down and try to explain to him why he lives with Grandma and Grandpa now-and that Mommie was not coming to get him. Yes, it hurt him to hear that-but, thankfully, a 3 year olds' mind is easily distracted.

As usual, there is a secondary reason for my writing to you today. While looking through some of your things this past weekend, we came across a poem that you had written a few years ago. It is the poem that was published in "A Celebration of Poets 1998", using you penname K.D. Prater. I had read the poem a number of times, but this weekend I realized that I had never really read it.

March On
By Danice L. Day
(penname of K.D. Prater)

One day I thought I saw
I saw you standing there,
But then you turned away,
You were without a care.
I called to you,
I called your name,
But silence is what I got,
I know what you think you're doing-
Hurting me.
But you're not.
I'm strong now, you know,
Strong unlike before,
And I don't need your fickle ways,
Your apologies anymore.
I'm actually living life for once,
Without you,
I'm happy to say,
So go ahead and waste your time,
But me,
I've marched away.

Even with all the anger you must have because of what has happened to you-I picture you with your head held high, your shoulders back, and a chuckle in your voice-saying to the person who did this to you: "You didn't hurt me because I did not give you permission! I will live on you loser, and I will have family and friends thinking good thoughts and remembering good things about me. What about you? What are your few friends going to say about you? What will your family find that they can say they're proud of? I repeat, loser!"

Danice, as you can see this poem got me pretty excited. I can point fingers at certain individuals just as you can. The one/ones responsible for this and he/she and their accomplices will pay. All of my choice adjectives and heritage description of those involved all boils down to the one word that best describes them all-LOSER.

We were told that there was another "body" found this weekend close by. As of now-no word on identity. Our hearts sank as usual. We are trying to keep some form of faith. We get closer every day to bringing this to a permanent close.

I love you, kiddo! We all love you!
Your Dad