Mystery of Death

I do not understand death. it’s so excruciatingly painful. The grief comes in unexpected waves by surprise. It rocks me and is indescribable. My heart aches, and can’t even grapple with the depths of it. I hate gun violence— violence of any sort! I hate murder. I can make sense of natural illness, body deterioration, natural causes— but never senseless violence.

I can never be okay with the violence of black on black crime. Generations of stolen fathers. Generations of fatherless children. Generations of widows.

Although, my grand daughter has her Papa, he will never replace her father. Her uncles will never replace her father. My daughter will forever not have the support of Joi’s father. I can never be ok with this. I feel like my family was robbed of something invaluable and irreplaceable. I’m angry. I’m so saddened. It’s so heart breaking. I grieve for my granddaughter, and his family.

God is righteous, just and faithful. He hates violence. Sons, please be careful about the women you let in your life. Seek God’s wisdom! Hearken to your mother’s voice.

Dalonnie loved his children. He came to our house for refuge. We took him in. I seen him as a son. He needed guidance and direction. He was not violent. He was caring. He was humble. He acknowledged Charity’s efforts and her parenting. He loved Joi. Unfortunately, he was a victim of his environment. He trusted the wrong person.

Sons, be careful! Hearken to wisdom. Trust your instinct.

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