Close to home
Every morning, after watching a little Mickey mouse and some Sprout, I turn the news on. I don’t know why I continue to put myself through the hell of the news, but I do. On a daily basis I hear of children being killed, innocent people dying from a bullet.
I can vividly remember the stories of parents hurting their own babies. Whether it be Susan Smith drowning her sweet boys or Andrea Yates drowning her 5 children. You never really forget those stories. You constantly ask yourself why, how could this happen? Why didn’t anyone see signs? Never do you think something so horrific, so tragic could happen to you or in your family.
That brings me to the recent story filling up our Facebook and Twitter news feeds. Little Victoria Martens. The sweet little birthday girl who was brutally tortured, killed and dismembered, all before being set on fire in the bathtub. The same bathtub she probably enjoyed playing in. All of this while her own mother watched and didn’t stop it.
I never met this precious angel, I wish I had. I do however, know her step dad, the man who raised her for many years, the father of her baby brother. He is also the brother to my wonderful Aunt Jody, the mother of my three sweet baby cousins. Their family has been a part of my family for more than 20 years. I live several states away from them, which is why I haven’t the chance to meet Victoria, but many of my very close family members have. This has affected them in ways unimaginable. The pain is real.
This time I still ask myself all the same questions, how, why? This time I still hold my own babies closer than before. The difference this time, it is so close to home. I can no longer say this could never happen to us. I can’t proclaim my family being immune to such evil.
I always shed tears at such inhumane events, but this time I’ve cried a lot harder. This time my stomach sinks every time I see that beautiful girls picture. My heart breaks as a mom, for each and every child put through such awful things. Most especially when it is at the hands of the people who are supposed to protect them. This time though, I imagine the pain my Aunt is feeling. I think of my baby cousins who just lost their cousin. The horror of it is unbearable. A person they called their Aunt, helped take their cousin from them. How do they retain their innocence in this?
I don’t know what the answer is, I don’t know how to stop these awful events from taking place. All I know is that my family is not immune. It truly can happen to anyone in any family. Evil exists everywhere, even when we don’t see it. Maybe we choose to be blind? Maybe it is easier to walk through life if we continue to think we are immune. Unfortunately, we are not.
Rest in Peace sweet, beautiful girl!
I will pray everyday for healing in those that loved you so deeply!