Victoria "Tori" Stafford, 8, is shown in this photo copied from a poster, in Woodstock, Ont.DAVE CHIDLEY/The Canadian Press
Below is the victim impact statement from Doreen Graichen, Tori Stafford's grandmother
April 8, 2009 changed my life forever. All of a sudden, the world as I knew it would never be the same. How should one react when a piece of your life and blood is ripped out of your life and you have no answers as to why? The thousands of hours which have passed since that date have been agonizingly long and painful. I don't think we will ever know the exact truth of that fateful day, although I thank our Heavenly Father for those who spent days, months and years pieceing it all together
Truth - Tori is gone. She died at the hands of strangers who had sbolutely no reason to take her life except to try to cover up their actions. I don't sleep well, even now three years later. I've witnessed the emotional breakdown of all of Tori's family. Where Tori's brother, Daryn, and her cousins and friends should be happy and carefree in their youth, they have been thrown into a world of paion, confusion and anger. Each child has their own special need to cope with this, whether it be counselling or just going each day into a world they once thought safe and happy but now find has a dark and sinister side.
Truth - we all hurt.
Truth - we will never forget.
Truth - though time marches on and the kids grow and enter into adulthood, we are all acutely aware of never seeing that privilege with Tori. She would have been 12 this year.
Truth -- memories are all we have
I am a grandmother ("nana" to my grandkids.)
I've witnessed the grief, pain, hurt and anger my family has endured since April 8, 2009. In fact, I've had a front-row seat. Financially, we have had major losses of wages and salaries because of time lost throughout this. We will recover.
Tori's death is something we won't recover from.
Our beautiful, blonde-haired blue-eyed bubbly little 8 year old girl should never have died in the manner she did….scared, terrified and alone from all who love her.
I miss her charm. I miss her wit. I've learned to make every day count and never miss the opportunity to tell someone you love them. I am grateful those were the last words we spoke to each other just before Palm Sunday in April 2009.