What About Those Mamas?


What About Those Mamas?

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

 

 

Photo of my son Tommy, his 3 year old son, Taban.  Photo is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  Date on photo is incorrect.

 

 

 

Watching the morning news … mug shots of young men/women who have shot someone overnight. Every morning … same old thing … a young man or young man and woman … has shot someone in a home invasion, drugs … so forth.  Same old thing … just a different face.

 

I pay attention to their expressions … they’ve just committed such an awful thing … I don’t see grief, sadness, remorse … I only see defiance, ugliness … uncaring expressions.  Why I believe the bastards … would do again if given the chance.  They ruin their lives … not only that … the lives of their family members who love them best.

 

If I hurt, killed someone … I would be writhing in pain, burning from the inside of doing such a horrible thing.  I couldn’t live with it.  You’d damn sure see some emotion.

 

It never ends … every morning there’s death to report.  So much death … same old thing … a different face of the person who used their hands to pull a trigger, wield a weapon to kill.

 

In one week’s time … this is what this one grieving mother thinks: What about … those Mamas? What about them?  I’ll tell you this … something awful happened to my son one year before his death in the same month, on the 17th of May, 2009 … do you know as a mother … it devastated me.  I felt like it happened to me, also.

 

I went into shock, also.  A man stepped out of his car on the interstate in front of Tommy’s tractor-trailer.  During the last year of Tommy’s life … he lived in pure Hell.  He couldn’t cope with killing a man no matter that it wasn’t his fault.  This terrible tragedy began to destroy his own life.  That was the beginning … of the end of my son’s death.

 

My son died with three blockages to his heart … collapsed while playing on the beach.  If you found a way to even come close to describing something so tragic in a good way … it would be a … beautiful death … a beautiful way to die.

 

Why?  He was running, playing in happiness with his little 3-year-old son.  He was so happy to be doing what he had told me the evening before, he was looking forward to doing.  Playing with his little son for the first time ever at the beach.

 

The thing was … he barely made it in time to play with his little son … because shortly after getting to the beach … Tommy had to leave on another journey he didn’t know he was going on.  I didn’t know he was going on … no one knew he was going on.

 

Tommy collapsed on soft sand … I’m sure he was smiling with such love for his little son in his Heart.  He was probably out of breath from running, squealing … being a little boy again to play with his own … little boy.  I had seen him doing that before when playing with Taban, his little son.

 

I feel angels let his body fall softly to the sand.  I imagine the seagulls flying above, singing. Singing: it’s time to come home, Tommy.  Ocean waves played music while angels escorted Tommy’s spirit up to Heaven.

 

We … as grieving mothers … have to find good things to comfort us in order to cope.  We have to imagine special, beautiful things to hold onto when our children die.  But, what about the death of a child that is ugly. What about … those Mamas?

 

I was just so thankful, grateful that my son, and his family had arrived to their destination … it was Memorial Day holiday weekend … May 29, 2010.

 

I worried as a mother about drunk, drugged drivers on the road.  You know how it is … a lot of you are mothers.  Remember how you sigh with relief each time your child reaches their destination safely?  I look back … I remember my sigh.

 

Getting back to what about those Mamas … the ones I’m speaking of are the ones whose sons, daughters die in terrible ways.

 

Someone murdered their child … someone treated their child horribly just before killing them.  Such ugliness surrounded their deaths.  This Mama has to live with all she imagines happened … just before.  We … Mamas … are like that.

 

Then, there are the mothers … of the sons, daughters … who committed the awful murders.

 

When they put a bullet in another person … they weren’t caring, thinking … how it would affect their own Mamas.

 

They damn sure weren’t thinking of the Mamas of the ones they killed.

 

What about … those Mamas?

 

 

Note by this Author:

 

I think these same thoughts everyday.  When I see, hear the news … look at the mug shots of the faces … or video … who have just committed the ultimate crime … killing another human being … I have the same thought:  What about those Mamas?

 

A grieving mother only has her thoughts when her child dies … this grieving mother’s thoughts went to the last moments of my son’s life … to try and find some comfort.

 

Photos/article owned/written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter  #what about those Mamas?

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One thought on “What About Those Mamas?

  1. If I killed someone, even accidentally, I would find it hard to live with too! 😦

    Life is precious because, however it is taken, it can never be returned. 😦

    Love and hugs!

    Prenin.

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