THE CHILD GONE
BLOG: THE CHILD GONE
I get up early to make tea, pulling on my running gear , I literally blot out the door to run the ocean cliffs of Rancho Palos Verde ,like a child who runs toward the playground, I start to feel the comfort of energy burned.
There is not much interest in the life living of the modest in financial holdings there is some comfort in a life no one finds interest .
This life : Is short and yet long
When I look out to the sea fully comprehending the depth in her darkness,
such are memories,they are deeply buried in our ocean of life living .
I stop to tie my running shoes undone lace, these shoes have cleats on the bottom so I do not fall off the cliff side to fall hundreds of feet.
Dirt is pushed back to fall over the cliff as my run continues, I feel the ocean's wind against my body
righteousness has no name .
I always knew Jesus was in the sky.
I was a wife living in Detroit with my husband when breaking news came on about a missing child, a beautiful five year old with long blond hair, deeply seated blue eyes.
Her picture was shown and then video of her parents sobbing begging for her return.
I watched pulling my own children closely to me, the devil rides and lives
I always knew this to be true.
I prayed for the lost child as the weeks went by, as she was still lost, and the news showed the same school picture of her , and her parents home had become a shrine of flowers , cards from well wishers.
This family was hard driven into the drug world and it was suggested the child was payment for a debt, held until payment made, common practice.
We lived a few blocks away but I never traveled to look at the shrine of pain, I felt it not my business and would not contribute to the circus that was now the family's front yard.
I heard the words of my Grand Mary echo in my thoughts ,"Stay in your own backyard girl " I obeyed .
My husband and I drove to pick up our children from school, and on our return I instructed my husband to turn left towards the missing child's home, he asked why? I said , " I do not know but I feel pulled to see ?" he turned left on to the street of pain.
We drove past the house with the pity decorations as the child still remained missing, it felt badness to be a viewer of such depth of pain and loss, we passed by the house, I felt nothing but shame in not heading Grand Mary's words.
We turned to go towards our home stopping at a red sign to pause for our turn, and suddenly the car was full of the most horrid stench and I gasped, as my stomach lurched. I was overcome by the rotted smell felt near loss of breath, my husband grabbed my hand, " Bonnielynn whats the matter !" I looked at him choking out my words , " do you not smell the rot ?" He looked at me concerned , " no Bonnielynn" , I looked across his shoulder and saw a huge garbage container outside of a brick building, pointing, " she is in there!!"
I looked back at my children secure in their seat belts dozing the after school drain away.
The smell was unbearable and dispaited as we drove away, my husband stopped the car on the side of the road to hug me . " Bonnielynn what just happened?" I shook my head in disbelief but I knew that child was in that black huge dumpster but no one had smelled the death but me, I felt confident in my words.
We did not speak of it again, almost a week later the child was indeed found in that dumpster her small body rotting in the fall's fake heat of the last dance of summer.
When the news came on of her small body being removed from the dumpster my husband turned to me , " Bonnielynn?', I said not a word to him about it ever again.
I know I should have said something to someone but who would have believed me?
They arrested her father for the crime, and that was the start of the , " Knowing TIme" , the sign of seven for me , the daughter of Aberdeen's lineage .
I finish my run with prayers sent out towards the sea and request she bury her dead with dignity to leave me be, and to keep the
memories within her depths.
Do I hear a silent laugh at my request?
The ocean is a female who at times a self bitch, I always knew this to be true.
There is not much interest in the life living of the modest in financial holdings there is some comfort in a life no one finds interest .
This life : Is short and yet long
When I look out to the sea fully comprehending the depth in her darkness,
such are memories,they are deeply buried in our ocean of life living .
I stop to tie my running shoes undone lace, these shoes have cleats on the bottom so I do not fall off the cliff side to fall hundreds of feet.
Dirt is pushed back to fall over the cliff as my run continues, I feel the ocean's wind against my body
righteousness has no name .
I always knew Jesus was in the sky.
I was a wife living in Detroit with my husband when breaking news came on about a missing child, a beautiful five year old with long blond hair, deeply seated blue eyes.
Her picture was shown and then video of her parents sobbing begging for her return.
I watched pulling my own children closely to me, the devil rides and lives
I always knew this to be true.
I prayed for the lost child as the weeks went by, as she was still lost, and the news showed the same school picture of her , and her parents home had become a shrine of flowers , cards from well wishers.
This family was hard driven into the drug world and it was suggested the child was payment for a debt, held until payment made, common practice.
We lived a few blocks away but I never traveled to look at the shrine of pain, I felt it not my business and would not contribute to the circus that was now the family's front yard.
I heard the words of my Grand Mary echo in my thoughts ,"Stay in your own backyard girl " I obeyed .
My husband and I drove to pick up our children from school, and on our return I instructed my husband to turn left towards the missing child's home, he asked why? I said , " I do not know but I feel pulled to see ?" he turned left on to the street of pain.
We drove past the house with the pity decorations as the child still remained missing, it felt badness to be a viewer of such depth of pain and loss, we passed by the house, I felt nothing but shame in not heading Grand Mary's words.
We turned to go towards our home stopping at a red sign to pause for our turn, and suddenly the car was full of the most horrid stench and I gasped, as my stomach lurched. I was overcome by the rotted smell felt near loss of breath, my husband grabbed my hand, " Bonnielynn whats the matter !" I looked at him choking out my words , " do you not smell the rot ?" He looked at me concerned , " no Bonnielynn" , I looked across his shoulder and saw a huge garbage container outside of a brick building, pointing, " she is in there!!"
I looked back at my children secure in their seat belts dozing the after school drain away.
The smell was unbearable and dispaited as we drove away, my husband stopped the car on the side of the road to hug me . " Bonnielynn what just happened?" I shook my head in disbelief but I knew that child was in that black huge dumpster but no one had smelled the death but me, I felt confident in my words.
We did not speak of it again, almost a week later the child was indeed found in that dumpster her small body rotting in the fall's fake heat of the last dance of summer.
When the news came on of her small body being removed from the dumpster my husband turned to me , " Bonnielynn?', I said not a word to him about it ever again.
I know I should have said something to someone but who would have believed me?
They arrested her father for the crime, and that was the start of the , " Knowing TIme" , the sign of seven for me , the daughter of Aberdeen's lineage .
I finish my run with prayers sent out towards the sea and request she bury her dead with dignity to leave me be, and to keep the
memories within her depths.
Do I hear a silent laugh at my request?
The ocean is a female who at times a self bitch, I always knew this to be true.