Awake my child / Time has come / Morning is here. Another day older / Moments to share / Maturing and growing / Learning to care. Your…
Awake my child / Time has come / Morning is here. Another day older / Moments to share / Maturing and growing / Learning to care. Your laugh a gift / Smile a dream / Thoughts are simple / Knowledge unseen. Sleep my child / The time has gone / Night is near. My son. By: Mojha R. MacDowell / 7/28/07
Where can one begin to imagine what it must feel like to lose a child? Who ever expects a child to die before a parent? But when it happe…
Where can one begin to imagine what it must feel like to lose a child? Who ever expects a child to die before a parent? But when it happens what can one do to stop the hurt and anger? The feelings of emptiness this family must feel inside will never be filled again. The two siblings, a brother and sister, will never be able to accept that their younger brother will no longer be there to tease, laugh with them, share the years ahead with them. They no longer have a special little brother to be proud of. He can no longer make them enjoy the beauty of being an aunt and uncle. And his parents? They will never enjoy their youngest son’s grandchildren or the life he had planned for himself. Last night I received a phone call telling me that my friend’s son, Vincent, a brilliant final year student at Cambridge University, was knocked off his mountain bike by a car and died. Just like that, in an instance his life was ended. He was a student who had so much to live for, a son whose family have been split in two and will never understand why it had to happen to him. A youngest child who died in such a stupid way. His father John had to make the longest journey of his life to identify his baby boy. He said he looked like he was sleeping, so why couldn’t he wake up and it all be just a bad dream? Today his mother will have to make the journey to get the body; cold words, as cold as he is now that his soul has left forever. What must the driver who took away all this hope and happiness be feeling? He was going too fast and hit Vincent. He stopped, but multiple head injuries didn’t await the ambulance. I will never know but I hope that he will be forgiven for his sins. I hope he will be able to find some peace, somehow, throughout the rest of his life. All I can do is be there for them. All I can do is support them in their grief and hold back the tears and sadness that I feel for them. God bless your beautiful soul, Vincent Carta.
I miss dead people. I miss my parents, even though they raised me before the discovery of self-esteem and never missed an opportunity to…
I miss dead people. I miss my parents, even though they raised me before the discovery of self-esteem and never missed an opportunity to make me feel deeply defective. (Nothing personal really, just 19th century German child-rearing.) I miss dogs and cats. An unfortunate creature named Chelsea, whom we adopted when she was about ten years old, long imprinted with the conviction that she was her own only friend. I miss Matthew, a cat inclined to morbid obesity, whose final resting place was desecrated by a famous attorney who must remain nameless. (I mean unnamed. Anybody with rudimentary Googling skills can figure out who I’m talking about.) I miss…Dony Bronston, who taught me to play the piano correctly, rather than telling me she’d like to break my wrists. (She was the first wife of Samuel Bronston, producer of epics like The Fall of the Roman Empire. He left her for a younger woman.) I miss….this is a time to stop. My college English professor once said to our class that when you’re not sure what to write next, the best thing to do is stop. (He also wrote in his memoirs that he considered teaching an erotic act, which according to my therapist makes him a perpetrator of sexual abuse.) I don’t miss him. I wish him ignominy, I wish him remembered by nobody. Still, there was that one piece of good advice.
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/ Little Lost Orca TShirt Thank you Red Bubble for featuring Little Lost Orca today on the TShirt Feature Page and thanx to all my friends who’ve supported my new venture at migaloomagic gallery @ red bubble
I’m thinking about a delicate subject right now, after watching an episode of South Park this morning. The episode entailed Mr. Garrison …
I’m thinking about a delicate subject right now, after watching an episode of South Park this morning. The episode entailed Mr. Garrison (The kids’ homosexual, masochistic, repulsive teacher for those who do not watch) giving the kids an assignment. He paired up all the kids in the class boy and girl, except Stan and Kyle. He paired the two boys up because he knew that same sex parents (males in this case) cannot prove competent and responsible care-givers. / I, a quite confidently straight 15 year old male, still believe that this is in some cases, false. I have a gay relative and I think he and his partner would make great parents. The only problem is, is the child growing up in school and in a society where the act is frowned upon by a majority. The child will grow and blossom around a group of people with mothers and straight fathers and not know why he doesn’t have the same thing. / If I was gay, I probably would have a different opinion… discuss.
The ultimate tragedy / the harshest reality / our child is dead. When we lost our parents / we lost our past / losing a child we have lost…
The ultimate tragedy / the harshest reality / our child is dead. When we lost our parents / we lost our past / losing a child we have lost our future. Mornings are the worst / for a few seconds we forget to remember / that our son is dead. It hits us like a tidal wave / we drown every morning, over and over / like Groundhog Day. Short Audio Visual
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