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| Seriously bewildered |
| 05.13.04 (5:17 pm) [edit] |
I haven't been able to write these days and sort of wonder if I can now. Tuesday was my daughter's birthday. She had to work so I called her to cheer her up. But. She told me her ex boyfriend, still a good friend, told her that his sister had killed her 3 children. These are children that he and my daughter have held, loved, knew. The old boyfriend lives on an island near me and I called him and told him to come be with me, whatever, if it would help, because while they are no longer together, we've always been close. He said when he got back from whatever he needed to do he'd sail over and stay awhile. He just kept saying, this is something you read about, this is not them, this is insane. But it is them, three sweet children who I have watched grow from their births, in pictures from their grandmother (how often we'd say we hoped if we went over it wouldn't be an evening of dragging the albums out, AGAIN, but they were so cute we'd once again be drawn in, cooing), who also lives on an island nearby, an island I used to live on, a woman, another grandmother, her daughter, she is my age. Insanity. Insanity. And that mother chicken...she still sits in my yard in the pounding rain, her chicks under her, and it makes me scream. This is what mothers do, protect and love, not destroy because of their selfishness. How how how can a chicken know this, and not a human being? I can't understand, and I am glad of that. Very. And sick. The world is full of horrors these days and I can't pretend in paradox.
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