Nobody Pretends With Angels
Here’s the thing: I can’t post my usual “Nobody Gets Email” this weekend. The truth is, like everyone else, I want to cry…and tears won’t come…just a pushing behind my temples, a slow fog hangs over my chest, and like every single person that has ever watched their most darling of little children go into a school before they can barely tie their own shoelaces…..we all remember our children at that age…and today was hard to bear with this latest shooting.
I called my son tonight, even though he is 32, in my mind, he was in kindergarten again. Chasing lizards. Walking into the school bravely trying to hold his own fears. I had the overwhelming need just to tell him how MUCH I love him.
In my mind, I was being allowed to here the sound of my son, his voice, his laugh…the things we always take for granted, and today everyone was hit in the face with “But for the Grace of God” it could happen anytime, to anyone.
He told me his best friend’s daughter was born today.
“Does she LOOK like him? ” I laughed with a tease.
But no, he hadn’t heard of any of this…he had gone to work (they have no TV’s there) and came home and went to sleep. “What happened?” he asked.
He was spared the agony of the day, and for that I was thankful. We talked of the usual: bills, pets, Duck Dynasty…Christmas plans. And just the sound of his voice sent pain through my soul.
He was alive, but somewhere mangled and bloody, and lying on a cold floor, are little children…who died a horrible death, because some twisted, and angry soul took out his rage on their innocent little bodies. And tonight there are parents who have to go identify the body of the most precious thing they’ve ever held dear…and see the carnage where they were NOT there to protect them. And they will blame themselves…and hate God, and want to die, and all the other things that go with despair.
So, I think I’m going to take the weekend off…posting anything at the moment is just…almost to me, idiotic. Politics would just dirty the page.
Tomorrow I think I’ll buy myself a bottle of something, mourn, (I only drink on certain occations, and I never look for them.) —and then go on. Nobody suggests it a good idea, and I’ll be back certainly…Sunday or Monday.
Now, excuse me while I go pretend some angels …
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About
I am a nobody. If the different classes of America were color-coded, I would be in the yucky brown, one rung up from the bottom. I grew up in Naples, Florida and live near the Mississippi River now with my husband and two dogs. I am part of the slowly disappearing middle-class. I was a musician most of my life: drummer/singer/keyboards—but I retired before the plastic surgery flu hit. I have no degrees, which could be a good thing…depending on how you view our educational system. I do have three patents…but that really doesn’t make me a somebody. The one thing that is constant in my life is my OPINIONS, which i have more than perhaps even Carl Sagan could have imagined…mostly political. (yes…my ancestors were crabby buggers)
Hopefully other nobody’s will put their opinions on my site. But, if you happen to be a somebody, you’re more than welcomed to help out.
It’s my Nobody Opinion that Nobody’s Perfect, and Nobody Cares, that Nobody Knows why Nobody Wins, and when that happens, Nobody Wonders, why Nobody Flashes, why Nobody’s Fooled, but then Nobody remembers that Nobody ALWAYS Reports the truth.
You can email me at joyanna_adams@yahoo.com
Joyanna Adams
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Joyanna Adams 
Amen
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The sick media, even from Oz, were on the scene like vultures. Our TVs are full of it, and Obama’s milking of it.
They need to read THIS…..
http://mamabythebay.com/2012/12/14/to-the-media-regarding-newtown/
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That was excellent amfortas..thanks for sharing it.
Joyanna Adams
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That made me cry with you, dear friend.
Yea, though we walk through the valley of darkness and tears, we will fear no evil. Though evil abounds behind and under rocks, slithering and exploding its hatreds onto the innocent and the babies, we shall not fear it. For we have the staff and the rod, the heart and the soul and God himself walking through this valley of tears with us. ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me’, said his Son. ‘Whomsoever harms these children, it is better a millstone be tied around his neck and he be cast into the sea’.
There will always be psychos, the haters, the narcissists who care only for themselves. They may even be in large number. But as long as there are ten good people, Gommorah will be spared, in hope that some more may repent. And their Guardian Angels shall gather them up, enfold them and take them home in due course.
Cry for all our babies, Joyanna. There is no dignity in death. But life, in all its goryness is worth the walk along the valley floor.
And you have earned a weekend off.
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