That flight…


Aarthi Raghavan has once again honoured Vic and I with a beautiful poem… Aarthi is a brilliant poet whose work I love! This poem moved me to tears
I honestly know nothing about Aarthi. I do not know whether Aarthi is male or female, single or married, childless of parent…All I know is the heart of this amazing poet.

Aarthi has a pure and compassionate soul, is giving and soulful…Thank you Aarthi for these beautiful words and remembering my precious child.

You have a Gift! And you share it!

After I read this post I printed it and went outside and sat on the swing in Vic’s Angel Garden. The sun was gently setting and the air was cool. I felt Vic’s presence next to me. I feel stupid to write this but I spoke to her out loud. I told her how much I missed her and how huge the void is in my life without her. I read Aarthi’s words to Vic.

I felt her presence in the breeze, I heard her whisper “I love you Mommy” I felt at peace.

Thank you Aarthi for remembering Vic and honouring her with your beautiful words!!! You would truly have adored her.


that flight.

by ART


Vic and Tersia.. they occupy many of my thoughts, day, night, or times when I look for inspiration.. not words.. just inspiration.. that can make me smile, make my heart beat soft, constant and in comfort… I wish to dedicate this poem to a wonderful mother and her amazing daughter, for I know they are inseparable :)

often she smiled
thought to herself
why she had to deserve
all that which was unfair

she thought about her mom
her tears, her smiles
her heart beating in worry
and out of care, out of deep love

she lived her life like none of us
she smiled for special reasons
not fake, real special they were
for they reached your heart

they tried so hard
to seek happiness together
make memories forever
loving all that was on offer

even in the middle of
uncertainties
they managed
to share their stories

they made me wonder
of the beauty of love,
motherhood
of all things truly beautiful in this world

that flight
which she eventually took
must have been beautiful
freeing her from a lot of things

making her ever more precious
in our hearts
in our memories
in our thoughts
in our lives…

i wish i could have seen her
in person
made her smile
and then had a chance
to smile with her

it would have been bliss
indeed
to have a friend like her
to have been happy as her
for she is truly special…

:) I love you guys.. and I love your words Tersia… I will forever be glad to have met you.. even if it were through words…

http://citystone.wordpress.com/2012/10/23/to-vic-and-her-wonderful-mom/

http://citystone.wordpress.com/2013/08/06/that-flight/

https://tersiaburger.com/tag/httpsickocean-wordpress-comauthormysticparables/

http://sickocean.wordpress.com/category/poetry/

http://citystone.wordpress.com/2013/08/06/even-if-i-write-it/

Where is Auntie Vicky’s skin?


Those of you that follow my blog will know that my UK grandkids are visiting. They are the cutest, brightest and busiest little girls in the world. They are a source of immense pleasure and joy in my life.

They left South Africa exactly two years ago. I cried for a week. In the two years I have seen them 5 times. In terms of international travel it is a lot but in terms of a grandmother’s heart it is not nearly enough. When they lived in South Africa we saw them at least once a week.

Osama (the eldest terrorist) is 5.5 years old. She is bright as a button and full of tricks. She told me, in confidence, that when she turns 6 she is going to marry her “boyfriend” Freddy… I tried to use the impending marriage as a bargaining tool to encourage her to help tidy up her room.

Me: “Sweetie if you want to marry Freddy you will have to learn to tidy your room. What do you think his Mommy will say if she sees your toys lying around? He won’t marry an untidy girl…”

Osama: “That’s okay Oumie. Then I will marry someone else…”

This little girl has a mind of her own. She is heartbreakingly beautiful. Her eyes sparkle with the joy of life and intelligence. She is also kind and caring (a little manipulative as well). She has me twisted around her little finger! She also has an amazing memory!

She was 3, 5 years old when they left South Africa.

She was so excited to visit South Africa and kept sayings things like “I remember your big (dining room) table; where will I sleep? In my old room?” She always throws in the odd “Do you remember….?” She remembers their South African home and her school. She remembers the sunshine. She remembers Vic.

“Oumie….why did Auntie Vicky die?” is her daily question.

Her mommy and daddy have told her that Auntie Vicky’s soul is in Heaven with “Baby” Jesus… She is happy that Auntie Vicky is no longer sick. The big question is however “Where is Auntie Vicky’s skin?”

This is a difficult question to answer honestly. If I told the little poppet that her precious Auntie Vic is lying on the antique sideboard table, in a little box with a brass plate on the lid, she would be distressed… So I sort of implied that she was buried…

“Is Auntie Vicky’s skin in a box (coffin)?” she asks

“Yes” I would say. “But remember, Auntie Vic does not need her skin anymore. She has a new skin and beautiful angel wings in Heaven.”

“Is Auntie Vicky a Zombie?” – She shivers and says “Oooohhhhhh, I am so scared of Zombies!”

“No sweetie, she is an angel.” I said

I am sharing an excellent guide to help

the young, understand something that most adults battle with! http://www.hospicenet.org/html/understand.html

Children’s understanding of Death is provided by Hospice of Southeastern Connecticut Bereavement Program. This chart is meant to be used as a guideline and not a checklist. All children develop at different rates and it is important to remember that the parents know their own child the best.

Newborn to Three Years
Child’s Perception: Infant/Toddler can sense when there is excitement, sadness, anxiety in the home; can sense when a significant person is missing, presence of new people

  1. No understanding of death
  2. Absorbs emotions of others around her/him
  3. May show signs of irritability
  4. May exhibit changes in eating, nursing patterns, crying, and in bowel and bladder movements
  5. Depends on nonverbal communications; physical care, affection, reassurances

Providing Support:

  1. Keep normal routines and structure whenever possible
  2. Be verbally and physically affectionate and reassuring
  3. Provide warm, loving caretaker when parent is not available
  4. Exhibiting healthy coping behaviors

Three to Six Years
Child’s Perception: Child thinks death is reversible; temporary, like going to sleep or when a parent goes to work; believes that people who die will come back

  1. “Magical thinking”; believes their thoughts, actions, word caused the death; or can bring deceased back; death is punishment for bad behavior
  2. Still greatly impacted by parent’s emotional state
  3. Has difficulty handling abstract concepts such as heaven
  4. Regressive behaviors; bed wetting, security blanket, thumb sucking, etc.
  5. Difficulty verbalizing therefore acts out feelings
  6. Increased aggression – more irritable, aggressive play
  7. Will ask the same questions repeatedly in efforts to begin making sense of loss
  8. Only capable of showing sadness for short periods of time
  9. Escapes into play
  10. Somatic symptoms
  11. Hungers for affection and physical contact, even from strangers
  12. Connects events that don’t belong connected
  13. May exhibit little anxiety due to belief that deceased is coming back

Providing Support:

  1. Keep normal routines and structure whenever possible
  2. Provide opportunities to play, draw
  3. Read books on death & loss with child
  4. Help to verbalize feelings and fears
  5. Help to identify feelings and reactions
  6. Be honest and tell a child if you do not have an answer
  7. Explain in specific, concrete language – not euphemisms; explain what has happened giving specific explanations about physical reality of death
  8. Gently confront magical thinking
  9. Make sure child does not feel responsible for the death
  10. Be tolerant of regressive behaviors
  11. Modelling healthy coping behaviors
  12. Avoid clichés; “At least you have another brother”, “You can always get a new pet”
  13. Use specific, concrete words – not euphemisms; Avoid “Mommy has gone to sleep”, “God has taken Grandpa”

Six to Nine Years
Child’s Perception: Child begins to understand the finality of death; some do and some may not.

  1. Sees death as a taker or spirit that comes and gets you
  2. Fear that death is contagious and other loved ones will “catch it” and die too
  3. Fascinated with issues of mutilation; very curious about what body looks like
  4. Connects death with violence and may ask, “Who killed him?”
  5. 3 categories of people. who die: Elderly, handicapped, klutzes
  6. Asks concrete questions
  7. Guilt – blames self for death
  8. May worry how the deceased can eat, breathe, etc.
  9. Continues to have difficulty expressing feelings verbally
  10. Increased aggression
  11. Defends against feeling helpless
  12. Somatic symptoms
  13. School phobia (especially if single parent)
  14. Continues to have difficulty comprehending abstractions such as heaven, spirituality

Providing Support:

  1. Talk with child
  2. Ask questions
  3. Make sure child’ does not feel responsible in any way
  4. Identify specific fears
  5. Provide opportunity for play, drawing, art
  6. Normalize feelings & fears
  7. Address distortions & perceptions
  8. Be honest and tell a child if you do not have an answer
  9. Help to cope with impulse control
  10. Help them share bad dreams
  11. Help them with positive memories of the deceased
  12. Model healthy coping behaviors
  13. Avoid clichés; “Don’t worry, things will be O.K.”, “You’re such a strong boy/girl”
  14. Use specific, concrete words – not euphemisms; Avoid “Grandma went to sleep and is now in heaven”, “Grandma was very sick and the sickness made her die”

Nine to Thirteen Years
Child’s Perception: Child’s understanding is nearer to adult understanding of death; more aware of finality of death and impact the death has on them

  1. Concerned with how their world will change; with the loss of the relationship, “Who will go with me to the father-daughter banquet?”
  2. Questions have stopped
  3. Fragile independence
  4. Reluctant to open up
  5. Delayed reactions – at first seems as if nothing has happened, then grief reaction May show strong degree of affect
  6. Beginning to develop an interest in rituals (spiritual effects of life)
  7. Disrupted relationships with peers
  8. Increased anger, guilt
  9. Somatic symptoms
  10. School phobia
  11. Self-conscious about their fears (of own death, remaining parents)

Providing Support:

  1. Encourage discussion of their concerns
  2. Provide & encourage expressive experiences such as writing or drawing
  3. Address impulse toward acting out and allow opportunity to identify their feelings
  4. Allow for regressive behaviors
  5. Be honest and tell a child when you do not have an answer
  6. Gently relieve child from attempts to take over adult responsibilities
  7. Model healthy coping behaviors
  8. Avoid clichés; Avoid “You must be strong so I don’t have to worry about you”, “Big boys don’t cry”

Thirteen to Eighteen Years
Adolescent’s Perception: Adolescent has adult understanding about death

  1. Death is viewed as an interruption. Death is an enemy
  2. Bodily changes emphasize growth and life. Death is a contrast
  3. Increased vulnerability due to many other changes and losses simultaneously occurring
  4. A sense of future becomes part of their psychology
  5. Increased risk taking in effort to reduce anxiety or to defy fate
  6. May intellectualize or romanticize death
  7. May act indifferent to death of someone close as a protection against feelings
  8. May show full range of affect or almost no affect
  9. Wants to grieve with her/his peers not adults
  10. May need permission to grieve
  11. Suicidal thoughts
  12. Represses sadness, feels anger, depression
  13. Escapes; drives fast, uses drugs or alcohol sexually acts out
  14. Denial – tries not to think about it, doesn’t want to talk about it
  15. Difficulty with long term plans
  16. Somatic symptoms
  17. Questions religious/spiritual beliefs

Providing Support:

  1. Don’t assume they can handle themselves and their problems without help, support
  2. Be available, but don’t push
  3. Help them find peers who will support their feelings
  4. Or find other trusted adults
  5. Give permission for regression
  6. Be honest and say when you do not have an answer
  7. Assist in relieving adolescent of burden of adult responsibilities
  8. Help impulse control toward reckless behavior
  9. De-romanticize death
  10. Discuss feelings of helplessness
  11. Model healthy coping behaviors
  12. Avoid clichés; “You’ve got to be strong to help your mother”; “You seem to be taking this so well”, “Now you’re the man of the house.”

200 days


Today we lit candles in remembrance of Vic dying 200 days ago. My mind keeps crying “No! It is not true!” The void in my heart and life shrieks “Yes, it is!”

I met with a new Hospice patient today. She is in her early 60’s, petite, bright, friendly, positive and so unbelievably brave! She is also in denial and dying.

“I believe I will wake up one morning and I will be healed!” she said

Her skin has discoloured from the chemo, her eyes are turmeric yellow and her belly is very extended. Her feet and legs are dreadfully swollen. I believe that she is close to death. Yet this incredible woman is determined to go to the office from the 12th of August until the 27th of August as her replacement is on leave then…. I doubt that she will live that long!

I sat there and it was déjà vu… It was as if I was listening to Vic planning next week, next month and next year…. I heard her husband encouraging her to write letters, finalising her will. I shared with them how Vic had labeled every piece of her jewellery, given strict instructions on what had to happen to her possessions, planned her own funeral…

“Am I correct when I say that I hear you saying your child died?” the patient asked.

“Yes” I said. “200 days ago today”

“I cannot believe that you can talk about your child’s death! You are smiling and look so normal” she said. “When our son died we could not talk about it. We cried all the time…”

“Death is not the enemy. I prayed for my child to die…” I said.

“It is okay to cry” they said

“I cry every day” I said

BEST POEM IN THE WORLD


BEST POEM IN THE WORLD.

Bravery Takes Many Forms


IdealisticRebel's avataridealisticrebel

It is Sunday and if you follow my blog, you know that means I am showcasing a talented child. Ok, talented is understated but you will understand when you hear young Malacki sing. I hope you enjoy his voice as much as I did. I hope it raises you up all day long.

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My blog


ImageFor the second time this year I considered closing down my blog.  I have truly agonised about it.

I have thought about why I blog.  I weighed up my options…

  1. Close down the blog
  2. Start a new blog
  3. Post anonymously
  4. Change the privacy settings on my blog
  5. Stop blogging

I originally started blogging to document Vic’s journey.  I am grateful that I did.  There are days that I miss Vic so much that I would give anything to have her back.  Now I am able to reread my words…..

Today has been a very, very bad day. Sr Siza was here when Vic had a violent vomiting spell. Yesterday Vic fractured a vertebra again. Her pain is out of control. Her breathing was shallow.

“I don’t want Jon-Daniel to see me now Mommy. It freaks him out when I can’t breathe” Vic pleaded

I lay behind her back, gently holding her whilst the tears wracked through her little body.

Vic has been vomiting non-stop.  The acid has burnt the inside of her mouth.  Her derriere is so lumpy, black and blue from the constant injections.  Sr Siza popped in.  She examined Vic and started drawing up a Clopamon and Morphine injection.

Over the past 10 years I have seen my child suffer so much indignity and indescribable pain.  I have seen the despair in her eyes, the helplessness in the eyes of her boys….I have stood next to her bed and physically pulled my hair in frustration – tears pouring down my cheeks.  I have wept before God and prayed for Vic to die.  I begged God to take away her suffering.

Now I remember her laugh, her eccentricities, her will to live, her strength of character, her mothering skills and most of all the fun times we spent together.  

I am grateful for my blog.  I am grateful for the love and companionship I found here.  I am grateful for the advice from other bereaved mothers.  I am grateful for the blogs of other mothers further down the road than I am – reading about their ongoing pain I know that I am not going mad…that my pain is “normal”.  

I KNOW I am doing well.  

I am grateful that I can come back here and remember who meant so much to my precious child in her last days.  I am grateful that I have something to remember by because I can remember very little of Vic’s last week of living and the weeks that followed.  

This blog is no longer about Vic’s journey.  Her journey has ended.  Vic’s Journey has become my journey. This blog is about my emotions, my thoughts, my life and honouring Vic’s memory and life.  

I can “IGNORE” and “DELETE” written comments that may be controversial or offensive.  I will not sensor my thoughts or emotions.  This blog belongs to me.  It is a coping mechanism and my support group… If people don’t like what I blog about they have the choice to “unfollow” me.

I ask that people who read my blog see my heart, my pain, my isolation in my grief.  Allow me to mention my child’s name.  I am never going to “get over her death.”  I am not asking for sympathy or pity.  Just the right to write my words and thoughts uncensored.  

To all my cyber friends – Thank you for your love and support.  Thank you for sharing this journey with the boys and I.  I will continue to blog to honour my memories of my precious child.  I want the world to know this brave young woman and her incredible battle to live.  

Vic’s greatest fear was that she would be forgotten…  I vowed to her that I would keep her memory alive.  I blog for my child.  I will not dishonour her battle by blogging anonymously. She wanted people to know, to learn, to grow out of her suffering.  Vic was a beautiful human being filled with goodness and love.  She deserves her story to be known.

Vic, I salute you my precious and beautiful child.  I miss you with every fibre of my body.  I promise you that you will never be forgotten.

RELATED POSTS:

https://tersiaburger.com/2012/12/20/i-dont-want-to-die/

https://tersiaburger.com/2012/12/25/a-time-to-be-born-and-a-time-to-die/

https://tersiaburger.com/2012/12/18/the-right-to-live-with-dignity/

Image
I resonate with these words….

Choices


A Barefooted Blog's avatarBarefoot Baroness

I choose for this day to be all that it has ever meant to be.
 I choose to stop looking for meaning and significance in all the tomorrows,
I choose today to remain mindful that I have all I will ever need, anything more only compliments the day.
And just for today…..

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I am alive


Vic and my eldest UK grandchild in 2010

I am having a wonderful visit in England with my UK grandchildren and kids.  The house is filled with the patter of little feet and shrieks of laughter and despair.  Toys lie scattered on the floor and little arms and legs curl around their Oumie.  It is a happy home, and I am fresh meat…

“Oumie, please can we jump on the trampoline?”

I have spent two days jumping on a trampoline…Thank God it rained today!!!

I have been consumed with the feeling of “life” in the household.  Life, joy, movement…easy laughter and sibling rivalry. Everything that poor Vic never really experienced.

How desperately she wanted to live. How desperately she craved a normal life. How desperately she craved to LIVE! How desperately we wanted her to live.

We never have enough time. We always want more. Vic wanted more time. On the 24th of September, last year, when the Hospice doctor came in for Vic’s evaluation, Vic said “I thought I had more time…”  https://tersiaburger.com/2012/09/24/mommy-i-thought-i-had-more-time/

Six days before her death she cried and said she wanted to live. “If only I could live for another year…”

How little we know of what there is to know. I wish that I were going to live a long time instead of going to die today because I have learned much about life in these four days; more, I think than in all other time. I’d like to be an old man to really know. I wonder if you keep on learning or if there is only a certain amount each man can understand. I thought I knew so many things that I know nothing of. I wish there was more time.” –Ernest Hemingway.

I am wordless.

I know that I am still numb.

I am sad.

I am happy.

I am alive.

I wish I wasn’t…

I don’t want to ever leave my loved ones – as my child did not want to…..

Vic and the Girls
Vic and the Girls

Life is so unfair!!!!

Community Responsibility….


This is a post that I have agonised about.  Many of my blogger friends have lost children to heinous and senseless acts of violence. I am not condoning the actions of killers – this post is because I have questions about us, the community who allow these crimes to happen…

On the 18th of July, dear friends of ours, son killed his two precious daughters, wounded his ex-wife and then shot and killed himself. Our community has been united in our grief for the girls; our condemnation of the deeds of a father, son, brother and friend and in our sympathy for the girls mom. Now that is where the community unity stops…

Our dear friends, the parents of the killer and grandparents of the girls, are isolated in their grief. Their son killed their precious granddaughters – his precious daughters, wounded a woman who still calls them “Mommy” and “Dad” and then killed himself. They have simply become the parents of a killer.

The tabloids and gossipmongers are having a field day. People are writing vicious comments in the local media – “Hope he rots in hell”, “good father? He is a scumbag”…. His church refused to do his funeral.

There can be no question about how sad this all is and how terribly wrong Paul’s actions were. But if there is no lesson to be learnt out of this tragedy it will happen again and again and again….

Of course, now, everyone “knew” that Paul was narcissistic, selfish, unstable and a self-centred brat….People are saying they knew this was going to happen…that they knew he was stalking his ex-wife…I am sure there is truth in what they are saying. The first question that I want to ask of all the know-it-all’s is “WHAT DID YOU DO TO AVERT THIS TRAGEDY?” If people stood by and ignored warning signals they too have the girls and their father’s blood on their hands. Regardless of who they are.

If people KNEW all these things, knew he was capable of killing his girls – why did they sit back and do nothing? Why did no one speak to his parents or the police?

These people are well-known and loved residents in the community. Not strangers nor people we do not know. Paul and his family lived on the same property as his parents for years. He still lived in the house he shared with his family right next door to his parents at the time of his death… The church, family and friends knew where to find them.

This young man was deeply religious, a devoted father and a keen sportsman. A “clean-living” son of the community. A beloved brother and son. Friend to many. The deed he committed is heinous and cannot be understood or condoned. But, does he and he alone carry the blame?

The second question I need to ask is how can a church refuse to bury one of their own? Surely the entire foundation of the Christian faith rests on the principles of forgiveness and love? Jesus, on the cross forgave a murderer and thief and said

Luke 23:32-43, (NAS95) 32 Two others also, who were criminals, were being led away to be put to death with Him. 33 When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. 34 But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. 35 And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One.” 36 The soldiers also mocked Him, coming up to Him, offering Him sour wine, 37 and saying, “If You are the King of the Jews, save Yourself!” 38 Now there was also an inscription above Him, “THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.” 39 One of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!” 40 But the other answered, and rebuking him said, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 “And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he was saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!” 43 And He said to him, “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.”
The above narrative is one of the most touching in the entire Bible. While the Lord was experiencing the physical, emotional and perhaps even spiritual agony of the cross, he still expressed the divine nature of His love for man. He had the compassion to listen to the pleas of one who had great need. He made the effort to repress his own pain to and answer to the needs of a sinner. He promised that man, that that very day, He would be with Jesus in Paradise. What a wonderful assurance. Because of the assurance Jesus gave his companion in death, many today profess that like the thief crucified next to Jesus, we may have the assurance of Paradise by making a similar appeal to the Lord. http://www.bible.ca/ef/expository-luke-23-32-43.htm

I can only assume that, in the eyes of the church and community, the Jesus that Paul believed in, did not die for his (Paul’s) sins? This uncompromising and unforgiving attitude surely does not belong in the Christian faith? How dare we judge ANYONE?

Judge and condemn the sin – not the sinner.

Today I stood next to the grave of two beautiful and gifted young girls. Tomorrow I will attend the memorial service of my dear friends’ beloved son. As I wept for the girls and their mother’s heartbreak today, I shall weep for the girls’ father and his mother’s heartbreak tomorrow. My heart breaks for the entire family. My heart breaks for the parents who are facing the shame of their son’s actions and the hate they have started experiencing in the community and even the church. My heart breaks for the girls whose mother reached out in her pain today and embraced the parents of her daughters’ killer. I respect her for the fact that she recognised their pain and asked the uncle and grandfather to be pallbearers at the funeral. She showed her love and forgiveness. Her actions are the actions of a Christian…I hope the church will learn from her example.

I hope that I have not upset my blogger friends whose children suffered similar fates. I am not trying to justify the father’s actions – I am just saying if we turn a blind eye we too carry blame. If you see danger signs TAKE ACTION!! Speak to someone!


Below is part of an article that made some sense to me….. PLEASE REMEMBER – THIS ARTICLE WAS NOT WRITTEN BY ME!

Why religion tends to encourage family-murder/suicides http://www.news24.com/MyNews24/Why-religion-tends-to-encourage-family-murdersuicides-20130721

21 July 2013, 18:30

If you look on Paul Nothnagel’s twitter and facebook pages you see additional background. For example Paul Nothnagel  ‘liked’ a group called JiK (Jesus is King).

He also liked The Simpsons, Carte Blanche, rugby, cycling-parts maker Campagnolo and Asterix and Obelix.  So what? He described himself as “loyal and dedicated”.

On 31 May – very close to the time his wife’s divorce became official, he tweeted: “Dear God, sometimes it’s hard for me to understand what you really want to happen but I trust you. I know you will give me what’s best.”

Same day: “Dear God, Today I woke up. I am healthy. I am alive. Thank you I apologize for all my complaining. I’m truly grateful for all you’ve done.” On 28 March he tweeted: “Today I will sow love, happiness, peace & prosperity. You reap what you sow!!”  On 17 March: “Survived a hit and run incident tonite. Thank u Lord for keeping us safe. Luv u girls!!”

It’s evident from the pattern of bullets (12 fired at his two daughters, 2 fired at his ex-wife, both in her lower body) that Paul seemed particularly focused on ‘taking his daughters with him’.  A police official speculated that he may not have had suicide in mind if he was dressing in black and removing the number plates, but what’s more likely is that he simply didn’t want to be seen before he could start shooting.

That he had gone to so much care to plan his own funeral, and get hold of a killing weapon, suggests that he wanted to kill himself.  His twitter feed ends on 4 July (the murder/suicide took place 2 weeks later), but Nothnagel seemed to be fairly consistent on social media.

Finally, we get to the psychology.  It is easy to throw up one’s hands and say: how could this happen? Why did this happen?  The answer is quite easy to see.

Here was a man who was clearly close to his children and his wife, and was deeply hurt that he was losing touch with them.  He probably saw himself as his family, and his description on twitter confirms that: “Dad of 3…”  Loyal and dedicated.

He was also clearly trusting in God for a solution and depending on God to solve his dilemma: “… I trust you. I know you will give me what’s best …” Of course when you trust someone who doesn’t deliver you’re left with nothing, which seems to be what happened in this case.

Instead of trusting God perhaps he should have accepted the divorce, or gone for counselling, or taken some constructive (i.e. non-violent) action that amounted to responsibility for what was happening to himself and his family.

Paul’s qualities, many of them, are of course good qualities.  First of all, why does anyone stay in a marriage for 20 years when it is off to a bad start from the get go?

The answer is one is trapped by certain moral and social and religious expectations of oneself, as well as those of one’s family but particularly of one’s community.  Here religious codes taken on by family and the immediate community can have a debilitating effect.  These can be chronically oppressive, they can literally strangle the life out of you. But here’s where the psychology breaks down.

Let’s say you’re a Christian and you’ve been depending on God for rescue, for answers, for deliverance and finally what you feared most…the divorce… becomes official.  You get letters from lawyers saying that you have to keep your distance. That hits you like a bullet to the chest. You feel lost. Betrayed. Alone.  It’s brutal.

Suddenly the crutch that religion is, reveals itself to no longer be a protection or an insurance against one’s worst fears.  It can do nothing to dilute the sudden stabbing pain.

One finds oneself emotionally and perhaps otherwise bankrupt.  Broken.  Exposed. The crutch doesn’t seem to work and one has been depending on it for so long, one doesn’t quite know how to operate in the real world.

That’s when reality hits you very hard.  One feels naked. All one’s problems become like a giant wave. One response to this breaking wave of reality is to panic.  To snap.  To say, I can’t live like this anymore.  I can’t live with myself or without X, Y or Z.

So to state the simple solution to this problem (which itself seems infinite and unbearably painful) specifically: the victim decides to simply end the pain.  How? Kill yourself.  But what about those you love?  You’ll be going to heaven and it may be years before you see them in heaven.  So the logic of the believer in the afterlife is, if you’re going to kill yourself, kill those you love, and save them the pain of separation.

Kill them to save them from pain.  Kill them so that you can take them with you.  I wonder whether a young person would consent to a parent taking their life.  Jesus did, Isaac did – so perhaps sons and daughters if asked would say yes, kill me, I’m fine with it, wouldn’t they?

Of course this idea that death is a kind of ‘benign next door’ is exactly what makes the idea of a group murder seem like a good idea.  Put a bullet in your head and wake up on a tropical island?

Put a bullet in someone else and they wake up next you.  Cult suicides are an extension of this, where one’s religion leads one to believe that by killing your physical body you release your spiritual body.  And immediately experience bliss.

Here’s a fairly recent example of what looks like a mass murder-suicide combination from Wikipedia: On March 17, 2000, 778 members of the Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God died in Uganda.[21] The theory that all of the members died in a mass suicide was changed to mass murder when decomposing bodies were discovered in pits with signs of strangulation while others had stab wounds.[22] The group had diverged from the Roman Catholic Church in order to emphasize apocalypticism and alleged Marian apparitions

If all of this seems a stretch, perhaps the Nothnagel case is just one of those ‘flukes’, ‘exceptions’, ‘he wasn’t a real Christian to begin with’ dodges, consider that Jesus himself committed suicide, and also, his Father let him.

Consider that Jesus, who was God, had the power to prevent his own death, but allowed himself to die.  God, the Father, ditto.

At a point just before his death, Jesus cried, My God my God why have you forsaken me.  And God did…what in response? In fact God has in the past tested his chosen people by asking them to engage in infanticide (well Abraham’s son Isaac wasn’t an infant, but you get the picture).

In the very first family, one brother, Cain kills the other (fratricide).  But we see the grandest example in God sacrificing his own son, as a demonstration of both his (and his son’s) love, I guess for one another and for all of mankind. Suicide as an exemplary sacrifice.

We see the same idea in other types of fundamentalism – that to blow yourself up is a heroic deed, worthy of reward and the more people you kill the more heroic it is.  If you’re a Christian depending on God and God’s ultimate gift was suicide, then in our darkest times why should we not copy him when we too feel forsaken?

And the answer is, that is exactly what does happen.  What else is war, and murder and every base act when we capitulate to our fears and aggressions?

But doesn’t the constitution of the bible protect the sanctity of life?  Interestingly the Ten Commandments talk of ‘thou shalt not murder’, and ‘keep the Sabbath holy’ but not a peep on suicide.

That would create a bind on some believer’s mind – the mere mention and thought in the commandments – because a case can be made that Jesus committed suicide.

It seems the fear of pain and suffering has the same effect as alcohol does on one’s inhibitions, except in this case when one is chronically overwrought one’s responsibilities appear to become diminished.

In the same way that a drunk floats around and isn’t quite connected to the real world (i.e. is disassociated) so too is the potential suicide victim, who drunk on depression, pain and self-pity.  In both cases the real world seems both terrifyingly real and unreal.  Death seems strangely soothing by comparison.

And the consequences to any action (when drunk or suicidal) appear far removed…and disconnected.

Religion doesn’t help to root a person in the real world, it does the opposite.

Religion doesn’t help us solve real problems but simply anaesthetises them, postpones them, dulls them for another day.

When we ask God to solve our problems what we’re really doing is not taking responsibility to deal with them ourselves.  It hints at the foggy possibility of release, and let’s face it, the idea of heaven is a sort of “high” that doesn’t have much in common with physical reality.

When one is in a lot of pain. Even so, the 10th highest cause of death worldwide is suicide, with around 1 million killing themselves annually.

Animals, inferior creatures to human beings, only provide occasional incidental evidence that may be linked to suicide, such as whale stranding’s, but could be explained by other means too.

If human beings commit suicide more than another animal, what does that say about us, and our beliefs?  Are they healthy?  Do they make sense?  Do they help us or make us happy? Or is it all just a chemical imbalance, an imperfect formula some imperfect human beings had the bad luck to be born (created with).

But while the temptation to escape life’s troubles by instantly teleporting to a heavenly afterlife/ realm may make suicide seem a valid choice to some, overall some statistics (see below) appear to demonstrate that in some cases extreme religious affiliation depresses suicides rates, possibly due to the stigma attached to it.

It’s true that religion discourages certain immoral behaviours, such as alcoholism and drug abuse, which could raise one’s risk. At the same time it oppresses behaviours which causes that most insidious of conditions which leads to dysfunction: repression.

Anyone who represses pain and frustration for long periods of time will eventually snap with catastrophic consequences.  Religion is good at kindling that process.

This article is written in part to challenge the allegation many Christian’s make – “leave me alone, my beliefs aren’t doing any harm.”  The point here is to show that they – since they are based on delusion – are capable of causing maximum harm.

What is a worse crime than for a parent to kill his own child and them himself as an act of desperate and hopeless love?

Any psychology that mitigates these ideas or propensities is clearly highly dangerous to our societies.  And since religion increases the likelihood of suicide, that most tragic denial of the sanctity of life, we should hold religion responsible for feeding these crimes against our common humanity.

To conclude, another study conducted in Utah (more information below) shows that the state suicide rates there (in America’s most religious state) are well above America’s national suicide average.

This suggests – to me anyway – that being religious predisposes one to suicide, particularly in the sense outlined above:  that the afterlife psychology both falsely anaesthetises the fear of death, and also one’s construct of heaven encourages a ‘happy fictional solution’ to real world problems, which in the scheme of things, don’t really make sense.

For example, killing yourself may solve some of your financial problems, but may give your loved one’s a lifetime of emotional pain and brokenness.

Read more here: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15569904

http://aje.oxfordjournals.org/content/155/5/413.long

In 1996, suicide was the third leading cause of death for US males aged 15–24 years and the fourth leading cause of death for US males aged 25–44 (1). In Utah, for 1991–1995, suicide was the second leading cause of death for males aged 15–24 years and the leading cause of death for males aged 25–44 (2). For more than a decade, suicide rates in Utah for young males aged 15–34 years have been substantially higher than national suicide rates (34). Although a number of risk factors for suicide have been suggested, a low level of religious commitment or religiosity is a potential risk factor that merits further study.

http://aje.oxfordjournals.org/content/155/5/413.long

http://www.iol.co.za/news/crime-courts/mom-wakes-up-after-ex-kills-kids-1.1549623#.UevDW215f2w

http://www.iol.co.za/news/crime-courts/i-saw-alberton-dad-gun-down-family-1.1548910#.UevH-W15f2w

http://www.rapport.co.za/Suid-Afrika/Nuus/Moorde-so-beplan-20130720

http://www.iol.co.za/news/crime-courts/mom-wakes-up-after-ex-kills-kids-1.1549623#.Uew1aI3RiSo

 

Angryman! Why You Always Talkin’ About Racism?


REBLOGGED: 

You know? I was just sitting here today; thinking about everything and I mean everything that I have written and do write about.

Rodin_TheThinker

It occurred to me that when I began writing, I had a goal; a mission.

It was to expose the lies that our government tells us and to encourage the rich to pay more taxes. A pretty modest goal; I think.

 

As much as I have tried to fulfill that goal; it has become clear to me that what I once thought a modest goal; was in fact; a huge over reach.

It didn’t take very long or very much energy to find out that the ways our government lies to us are so many that it would take the rest of my life and many more to even attempt to detail them.

As far as the rich paying more taxes? Well that truly did turn out to be a modest goal. Turns out that while it is true that the wealthy pay little to no taxes on much of their money; and the poor and middle class pay the bulk of the taxes because they are the ones affected by the various fees and sales taxes and payroll taxes etc.; this is a small problem and one that would be solved automatically if the rest of our problems solved. Even if the biggest few of our problems could be solved.

Number one; biggest problem we have today? Racism. No doubt.

Some people have asked me why I like Black people so much?

I say it’s cause they got good weed; good attitude; Reggae; the long-suffering of a saint; and have been shafted from the get-go; and need all the support they can get from those of us Caucasians; Whites;  who are able to see their situation as it really is.

The truth is that I don’t love Black people so much and I don’t like people because they are black. I like people because they are people; black; white or whatever. Just because you are black; doesn’t make me feel obligated to like you. Neither does being white or any other color. I can dislike you with the best of them if I think you’re an asshole. So I guess I do discriminate;…against Assholes.

You know; you can’t take something like skin-tone with any seriousness. The very acknowledgement that you can detect it is an insult to us all. Because knowing it is of no; repeat that; NO value.

Unless you are trying to describe the guy who lifted your cow. Then it’s ok to tell  what shade he is.                                                                                              rodin alien and cow

But what isn’t ok is for anyone to assume what color he is; based on his actions.

One is racism; the other a good report.

Being anti-racist or non-racist is a much maligned and oft misunderstood stance to take.

I have been accused of everything from ass-kissing to hidden sexual tastes based on skin-tone. My responses have often been less than polite but in my better; less angry moments I have managed to explain that I fail to understand what these folks believe to be my motive for the ass-kissing; unless it has to do with my supposed sexual proclivity which; I have explained is non-existent. Not that I have anything against Black women or Yellow women; or Red women. I dig the rainbow but I am a married man; married to a white woman who I am very much in Love with and who is also a non-racist sort of chick and I take my vowels very seriously for reasons which are partly biblical in origin but primarily about human dignity, respect, self-respect, love, and a sincere desire to avoid doing more damage than I absolutely must as I travel through this life. My failures to date are enough for my ability to carry their guilt and I try to be very careful about what I put out into the universe.

Let’s face the facts. Let’s not pretend to be blind or deaf or stupid.

Let us admit that we are at least semi-intelligent people who are able to say what we see; who will not ignore the nose on our face or say “What’s the Buzz?” when we hear the cries of our brothers.

Think of what your country would be like if there was no racism. Think of all the problems, violence, hatred and grief could be saved. Think of all we could do if instead of battling each other; we could work together free of those destructive forces that hold us back now.

Hard isn’t it? It is hard. It is hard because we as a nation have been programmed to hate each other. It’s everywhere. Giving in to it is so much easier than fighting it. If we are to escape racism; we must seek knowledge ourselves because the schools; the courts; the military; and the rest of the institutions of our society are woefully unenthusiastic and the government way less than zealous at seeking the truth and peace between us and us.

So when I see a crime; a person being beaten; when I hear the cries of children; not abstract children of a proverbial nature but the cries of real children who live around the corner from me or go to school with my kids or appear in TV videos of brutal attacks around the world; I have discovered that I feel that I must speak out. I must tell the truth.

The truth is usually not as hard to identify as you have been led to believe.

You are not as inept and stupid as you have been led to believe.

If we are standing before a great hole in the ground and I tell you not to jump and someone else says it’s ok to jump; you know the truth; you have the prior knowledge to sort it out and figure which one is telling the truth.

Well you can do the same thing when you are confronted with other issues and problems; if; you don’t allow your ego; your vanity; to get in your eyes and ears. If you can decide to stand up; a person of Integrity. Sadly, not all can.

What I discovered when I took a long look into the abyss is that I can’t live with myself if I don’t speak out and I can’t stand to see the suffering of people especially but not exclusively children; of any color you care to name.

It hurts me. I am no longer ashamed to say that many of the atrocities I see and hear of bring me to tears of sadness and frustration. I don’t understand how they don’t have the same effect on everyone.

One thing that Clinical Depression does for you instead of to you is to give you the ability for introspection. What the end of that will be is determined by the severity of your depression, the treatment you receive and what you decide to do with it when you can do something. Confusing? You should live through it and figure this shit out for yourself.

I figured out a whole bunch of shit. Much of it; enough to send you back into the fucking abyss by itself.

But after my last sojourn there, I became convinced that I was wasting what time I have left on this Earth in redundancy.

My next post will not be disconnected from this subject. It will deal with racism also.

And there’s a movie for those who prefer a more passive learning experience.

Sadly, we are not alone among nations when it comes to being racist. We should be the first to actually address the problem in a way that will work. This though, can only happen when we want it. We can have anything if we really want it enough; or rather if enough of us really want it.

Reblogged from:  Angryman! Why You Always Talkin’ About Racism?.

From the diary of my precious child…


I found these words in Vic’s diary. It was an entry towards the end of her life. I believe it is a message from my precious angel child – not only to me but to her friends and family.

I found a web source when I did the plagiarism check. The poem was written by Karen Vervaet. Vic changed some words by never finished writing what she started.

These are the words my beautiful child wanted to share with her friends and family…

Goodbye
I turn my head and look towards death now.
Feeling my way through the tunnel with the space of
emptiness and quiet.
The shimmering silence that awaits me.
This is my direction now; inward to the green pastures…
The cares of the world concern me no longer.
I have completed this life. My work is done, my 
children grown.

My loved ones are well on their hero’s journey. (original text – My husband is well on his…)
I have loved much and well…
Those I leave behind, I love.
I hope I will remain in their hearts as they will
in mine…
Thank you for taking such good care of me…
And all of you who have been my friends, thank you
for teaching me about love.

Karen Vervaet

My funeral


http://www.toms-travels.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/3candles.jpg
http://www.toms-travels.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/3candles.jpg

I am writing this through my tears. A dear cyber friend of mine is dying from congenital heart failure. She is a wise and terribly brave person. She posted this today…

“so here it is and then i am off to sleep.  when my sister was here we started talking about cremation.  of course she is the only person in my family that i would have this discussion with.  may i add we laughed although not all would find this humorous.  when cremated how do they separate the human remains from the ashes of the container used?  if no container is used why do they charge for it?  i have looked online for the answer and didn’t find it.”

This post jerked me back to Vic’s death bed. The memory of Vic sitting in her bed with an open file on her lap was burnt into my mind…. The folder – “My Funeral”

“Mommy, these are the hymns I want for my funeral…”

“Amazing Grace” and “How great thou art” were Vic’s hymns of choice…

“Mommy, do you think I can have candles? Lots of candles?” Vic asked.

In May 2012 Vic asked whether I would deliver her eulogy… She asked me to thank Jared for taking care of her and Jon-Daniel for making her laugh.

“Remember to make a list of everyone that we need to thank Mommy. I would hate for us to leave out anyone… “

On the 2nd of January, 16 days before she died, Vic double checked with me whether I remembered which hymns had to be sung at her memorial service.  She cried when she (again) named her pallbearers; she requested that her minister be called to administer communion.

“Please don’t let me lie in a refrigerator for a long time Mommy…Let them cremate me as quickly as possible”

I still feel the despair I felt then knowing that death was on the forefront of my child’s mind. I felt her fear of death; her terror of the unknown. I felt her desperate sadness and her reluctance to say goodbye… On the one hand her pain filled, little body was so diseased and weak. On the other hand,her will to live was so strong!

I was helpless. I was praying that Vic would die – that her suffering would end. I was bargaining with God to spare her. I tried negotiating with Him – my life for hers.

I still feel the madness that I felt then.

My dear friend is going through the same fears and emotions that my precious child did. She is making the same decisions. I wish I could reach out and hug her. I wish I could grab her from the claws of death.

I am thinking of you tonight my dear friend. In my thoughts you are well and safe. I wish I could spare you this journey. Lots of love and hugs.

https://tersiaburger.com/2013/02/13/the-process-of-preparing-for-death/

https://tersiaburger.com/2013/04/28/seasons-and-reasons/

https://tersiaburger.com/2013/04/25/it-is-okay-to-let-go-my-angel-child/

https://tersiaburger.com/2013/01/02/sisters-by-heart/

https://tersiaburger.com/2012/12/20/i-dont-want-to-die/

http://thedrsays.org/2013/07/16/quick-question/

Mandela Day 18 July – what are you going to do?


South Africans from all walks of life are gearing up to celebrate Nelson Mandela International Day on Thursday, the 18th of July. This is in honour of Nelson Mandela‘s legacy, whose life and commitment to democracy has shown that everyone is useful and has potential to bring change for the good of all.

The idea of Mandela Day was inspired by Nelson Mandela at his 90th birthday celebrations in London’s Hyde Park in 2008 when he said: “It is time for new hands to lift the burdens. It is in your hands now.”

The United Nations officially declared 18 July as Nelson Mandela International Day in November 2009, recognising Mandela’s “values and his dedication to the service of humanity” and acknowledging his contribution “to the struggle for democracy internationally and the promotion of a culture of peace throughout the world”.


People around the world are challenged to spend at least 67 minutes doing good work in their communities in honour of the 67 years that Mandela gave in service and sacrifice. Please help us make the world a better place!

The overarching objective of Mandela Day is to inspire individuals to take action to help change the world for the better, and in doing so build a global movement for good. Ultimately it seeks to empower communities everywhere. “Take Action; Inspire Change; Make Every Day a Mandela Day.”

‘It is in your hands to make of our world a better one for all’ – Nelson Mandela (Photo: Mandela Day)


South Africa‘s focus this year would be “on community development and a call to everyone to use their energies, wisdom and skills to contribute towards eradicating poverty, addressing food security and reducing hunger”

Read more: http://www.southafrica.info/mandela/day-160713.htm#.UeVkjI3RiSo#ixzz2ZDq5Mxuz

Read more: http://www.southafrica.info/mandela/day-160713.htm#.UeVkjI3RiSo#ixzz2ZDqGtRGT

Read more: http://www.news24.com/MyNews24/The-Broom-Nelson-Mandela-Day-20130716


Read more: http://www.southafrica.info/mandela/67minutes.htm#.UeVn-o3RiSo#ixzz2ZDtnlFoy

I am Vic’s mother!


Child-loss is a black hole of grief and sorrow in which every emotion is compressed and compounded.   It is an inescapable vortex.  

Vic was the centre of my emotional cosmos. My world revolved around my precious child. Vic was my past, my present and my future. When she died it felt as if my life ended.


For the first time in 38 years I cried. I truly cried and called to the heavens. It was as if 38 years of pent up fear, anguish and stress was released. I screamed, I sobbed, I wept… Did you know that there is a difference between weeping and sobbing? I clung to my child. I stroked her hair. I washed her little body and dressed her in her favourite pyjamas. I sprayed her favourite perfume on her.

Grief is a strange journey.

When I embarked on the Journey of Mourning it was a strange road. I had lost people I love dearly before. My mom, my dad, BFF’s, colleagues and family had died. Of course grandparents too… But I had never lost a child. This is a road I had never travelled before. I did not only lose my precious child but I also lost the person I was.

Within a millisecond I ceased to be a mother. Wait – I became a “bereaved mother.” The hope I had clung to for 36.5 years was lost! The fight in me was gone.

The second my child’s soul left her body my heart shattered into a million pieces.

The hardest thing I had to do in my life was say goodbye to my child; listening to her breathing getting weaker and weaker…. knowing that her last breath was so close.


Then I thought nothing would match my pain watching my precious baby leave our home for the last time in a plastic sheet on a gurney until I had to stand and watch the hearse drive away with my precious, precious child lying in a cold hard coffin – her destination a crematorium!

No matter how prepared I thought I was for Vic’s death – I wasn’t! People seem to think I should be grateful Vic is dead. Just as people did not want to listen to me talking about Vic’s terrible suffering they now don’t want me to talk about Vic after she died. They ask you how you are doing hoping you won’t be honest and answer…

It is almost surreal to see that the world has carried on with its business; that the heavens are unchanged; that life has continued. I look at myself and I think that people that don’t know me would never guess that my life ended 6 months ago… People pat me on the back and say “You are so strong…”

We are nearing Vic’s 6 month anniversary and I have learnt to breathe again. I have learnt to stay strong for the boys. My life will and must mirror Vic’s strength and courage. Her dream of a Hospice will continue to live on in me…Her goodness will continue to spread to the community and the world!

I raised Vic to be strong, courageous, and brave. Vic taught her sons that she is their mother not their excuse…


I am Vic’s mother – she is my reason; not my excuse!


Always the lady


Exactly one year ago Vic had a Brazilian Blow-dry. This is what I posted then…

Today I took Vic to the hairdresser and she had a Brazilian blow-dry treatment.  Now, for those of you who are as ignorant as I was, this is a “hair straightening” process.  Four hours!!

Shame Vic was sleeping in the chair…poor baby!  She is exhausted but it will make her life so much easier for many months ahead.  Vic will not wash and leave her hair – it has to be sleek…Now with this Brazilian blow-dry thing we can wash her hair and leave it!  Bliss!!

I never saw my late Mom not immaculately dressed with her hair beautifully done.  No matter how ill she was, Mom went to the hairdresser three times a week.  Her nails were always immaculate and Mom would get very annoyed with me if I wasn’t wearing make-up and had my hair in a ponytail.  “Always the lady” was her motto.  As it is Vic’s.  I find it absolutely amazing that she insists on getting dressed most days.  Well, certainly before the boys get home from school.  She does not want the boys to see her in pyjamas. When we wash her hair it must be blow dried…She will not scrunch it or put it up in a ponytail, plait or pin…Vic’s hair has to be sleek…No matter how ill she is.

Her little body is so swollen from the cortisone.  Her face looks like a little chipmunk’s!  It happens from time to time.  What is worrying is that Vic’s blood pressure is steadily increasing.  Addison’s symptoms include low blood pressure…so why is Vic all of a sudden developing high blood pressure?  And Madam will not see a doctor!  What to do?

Vic does look so beautiful after her hairdressing marathon.  She is passed out and I know it will take her a week to recover from this outing.  But, it is well worth it!

These are the words Jared wrote for Vic’s funeral letter….

Dear Mommy…

Words could never explain what you mean to me…

It always meant so much to me that no matter how bad you felt or how sick you were, you always went out of your way to do anything and everything you could for us… Always going out of your way to make everyone’s life easier especially mine…

You were always my hero… No matter how sick you were every morning you woke up and got dressed. Even if you didn’t do anything you always looked your best…

I love you so much mommy… You made such an impact on everyone’s life that you will never be forgotten…you will forever live in our memories as the bravest woman and best Mommy of all time…

No one will ever be able to replace you…


Jared

Jared and his Mommy 1.1.2013

Always the lady…