Kindred,
I have intentionally not gone about my day as usual since the massacre in Connecticut. I have avoided any debate, excuses or justification's for what this exceptionally evil coward dog has done. He who shot the woman who carried him in her womb for nine months and suffered the Woman's torment of birth. Shooting her in her face. His Mommy's face. A Mother's beautiful face.
I think of the joy and grace I was gifted by the miracle's of my two daughters being born. Both so teenier than tiny. Our first was the light skinned one and our second the olive complexion of her mixed heritage. These two baby's, these two girls, and now grown Women, have honored their Dad with a damned good education. And I didn't even have a manual or a three or four or five page mimeographed list of recommendations and directions. I had the joy and privilege of being a Super Dad, taught by professional children being children.
I would go pick my Little Women up from school and stand out by the fences with the other 'Moms' and gossip and yackity-yack and cluck-clucking like a half dozen hens in a hen house. The happiness's and excitement's of seeing their faces when they saw their Pa over there with the Lady's. Bringing home projects and art work created in a safe, quiet and well educated community. Oh God, yes, there were the little stuffs and the scandals and dramas, but there were also so many memories that have filled our lives with love and joy of the heart. Those memories that live in the Spirit as well as the memory of the mind.
Friday, 14 December 2012, at the time of the massacre I was in the Little Blue Bus on my way to my doctors clinic and was cut off from the outside world. While at the clinic and lab the stereo overhead was playing Christmas music. I remember very specifically listening to Dean Martin sing one of his popular Christmas tunes. The staff had been made aware that I was taking the HARTPlus bus and would have to be out by 1245 or be abandoned in South Tampa. The staff worked extra hard to ensure that I was able to get out and catch my Little Blue Bus. I was on my way home when one of my baby sisters called to share with me the tragic and catastrophic news coming out of Connecticut. I felt my heart skip beats and an anger develop deep within.
Back when my daughters were between five and ten, because of mine and my wife's work schedules I was able to do a lot of the cooking for my family of four. Also did alot of the buying of clothes and sneakers they wore. My daughters have meant my life to me. I'm not sure, but I may have recently commented that I would die for my daughters and my wife - I would also kill for them. And do so with clear conscience.
Let me share this about some of the other young one's, Kinfolk and Kindred who bring joy and a God's Blessed love into my heart and Spirit's. My baby sister Roxie, brought two bundle's of joy later than her older sibling's. Roxie's two are nine and seven. I love them with all of my heart. That Tong-Tong, is the Star in my eye - he does no wrong. It is in the blood that I would die for these two young, handsome and brilliant children. I would also stand next to their Father and kill for them too. And do so with a clear conscience. My sister Rosie, gifted me with a nephew back in 1984. Our names are the same, 1017. I love him with all of my heart and love him as if he were my Son. My nephew has also made his Tio/Uncle proud as a Father knowing his son has just counted coup. 1017, has married a niece for our family and she has blessed our family with two absolutely beautiful and extraordinary nieces. He-Who-Is-A Little-Big-Man, is my nephew from their union. He too is an innocent. My two beautiful little nieces are wee young children - they are perfect in my eyes and my eyes see two Earth Angels. It is in our blood that I would die for my nephew and his wife, my niece, Good-Mother and my beautiful innocent and beautiful nieces who love their Tio so very much. Sometimes I cry from the distance and time that separates us.
It was just last Friday, 7 December, when I spent the day with a very true good friend and then that afternoon with his son at his school. We watched Lil' Man and other children play football. They were miniature Dione "Neon" Sanders out there and Bo Jackson's and Dan Marino's out on that field. Innocent's, between the ages of five and ten, like my daughters were once - just a Dad's short few years ago. Roxie's two, my nephew 1017 and Good Mother''s three. My Indian niece, She-Who-Is-Wise, has blessed me with a young nephew, also between the age of five and ten.
These young innocent one's who are just beginning to see life and make buddy's and toss ball, are Great Spirit's Blessings and gifts to us, the parents of the Innocent ones.
To have such a coward dog take such treasures from Mom's and Dad's, Grandma's and Grandpa's, cousins, aunts and uncles...
...brother sand sisters. Is inhumane.
As I read and listen to the horrors of living on this planet, such as the Wars, the Genocides, the Massacres abroad where our children from other lands - those innocent ones across the ponds that are being slaughtered daily, remind me so sadly, that in this country, massacres have been just as American as Baseball and Apple Pie.
Once I got home I put on the American Broadcasting Company and watched and listened and watched and listened to so much of the same thing and the same photos - the one with the little fellow with his hands over his mouth has been branded onto my heart, that I feel such a deep hatred to the coward perpetrator. I include his father and his brother too. Irrational or not. It is.
I cried myself to sleep that afternoon.
My heart seems to be skipping beats as I get closer to the end of this communique.
I have held off talking about this massacre because of the harsh emotional impact it has had on my Spirit's and my Soul. The respect and love I have for this so very young next generation has been effected. For me the talking of my Soul is unheard of - this coward through unnecessary horror and blood shed of the Innocent's affected my Soul.
This dog has been damned by God, and he shall suffer eternity in hell and God, I pray, may he suffer worse than the fires of Hell. I beg of you God, let hm die 27 times over and over, then 27 X 27 times more. It has been written, please My Lord, let it be so.
God, Bless the Souls of the Little Angels that were slaughtered. God Bless the teachers who sacrificed their lives for the innocent ones. God, please, forever be near and not stray far from the parents of these children - or their siblings. Or the innocent one's friends, those students who attend the same school. And their parents and their parent's parents.
God Bless America!
I have no more to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment