Just recently, my cousin lost her dad. This man was strong, loving, and adventurous in
his prime. A prime that lasted 9 decades plus a few years. Yes, they probably had their ups and downs,
but the love shone. And that love possessed enough strength to make her loss as keen as the love she found on the day she saw his face for the first time.
The loss of a loved one at any age can be
devastating whether sudden, or prolonged.
However, the longevity of the love can somehow make it more difficult to
mourn, as the depth and the memories, strengthen and deepen throughout the
years. The age of the deceased it really
doesn't matter. Yes, they have reached a remarkable age, but the loss is
nonetheless as shattering as that of a young love.
However, a love that is craved, a love that is
shattered while you are alive, is probably one of the hardest losses that anyone
can mourn. This type of ‘death of love’
is probably one of the most difficult emotions to come
to terms with.
A couple of people I have come to know intimately over the
past few months have expressed that ‘death
of love’. The love they craved
was really non existent from the one they loved (their mother). Decades of love wasted. Decades of love
emotionally twisted, and blatantly manipulated.
They had given that love, craved that love. Respected love in itself to
defend them from what really was a manipulation of the cruelest kind from an evil woman. A woman who only had
love for herself and, for her possessions (she considered her children were part of
those possessions). Possessions that
could be put aside at her whim, but brought out on display for those to whom she
wanted to keep up appearances.
This woman (for want of a better word) sought
and destroyed every bit of JOY that they had, ever collected to comfort and
console themselves in their years of loyalty, and love, for this woman. Every blessed memory of others that they
brought to their heart for comfort, was distorted and defaced to prove their
dependence on her, and her alone. No one
had value in her mind except for herself only.
She raped their minds from the very day that they were born. In fact, she made them beg for the crumbs of ‘pretend love’
that she would throw their way.
One day not so long ago, they sat and disclosed
the atrocities that she had inflicted on them from birth. These days turned to weeks, turned to a few
months of discussion. Not one story,
that each had been told, was anywhere near the same. These stories were told to manipulate and to
distance each child from the other, so that each child had conflicting angst
and anger for their siblings. This in
turn, made the mother the all powerful, the narrator of their lives.
Things started to make sense finally, dates,
times and situations. Finally 1+1
equaled 2 not one alone as she wants, as singularly it's easier to
control. Things finally started to add
up and these people began to realize that their thoughts had been manipulated
in order to control them to love, and crave love in return from this evil
woman. Yes, this woman appears to be a
lovely old lady, but in reality she is a nothing better than a serial killer of
people and rapist of hearts. She does
not stop. Sadly she knows what she does,
but she continues collecting trophies along the way. These trophies are people who she will use to
defend her atrocities and, once finished being her appointed allies, will
dispose of smartly to cover her web of evil.
These people were born to this woman and, in so
doing, were born to love and respect her, never to question the love that they
had come to believe was not normal. This
woman was the great dame of deception. Finally after coming to a realization
that this was not love and, confronting the demons in their mother, the love
that they so sought has been rejected and they are cast to the wolves. Yes, this is indeed a ‘death of love’. Yes, their love was not
returned. But the love proffered to this woman was as true and as heart felt
as my cousin's for her father. Yes, this
is a love that has to be mourned but, it also is a mourning of a love that was
given but never returned.
Sadly, these people have to rebuild their lives
as the very foundations on which their love was built never even existed. We will keep them in our prayers and pray,
that Karma may present itself upon this woman as peace will preside over my
cousins father.
As you realize by now, most of my life and
emotions are governed and controlled by music.
The clip that follows this is how I feel for both scenarios. However,
one door is open and the other is closed on their long and winding road.
My sympathies go out to my cousin at this time.
My prayers go out to these newly found, intimate friends and from the Latin -
ave atque vale (hail and farewell) Alec.
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