Archive for the ‘violence’ Tag

Hands Up – A New Meaning by Delina Hill-Brooker

I was at my sons basketball game and everyone in the crowd was cheering for the kids and yelling, “Hands up! Hands up!” Although I know that they wanted them to be prepared to be able to get the ball, it instantly took my mind to Michael Brown and the “Hands Up” campaign.

From my perspective, looking onto the court where there were mostly Black boys and how this saying has already changed for them. I figured that they weren’t thinking along the same lines as I was. Mostly because they are boys and unless they are directly affected by something then they wouldn’t be in the same head space as me. Another thought, they should be more aware because this is their reality & they need to be aware.

It is so sad and unfortunate that the constant violence against our young, Black boys has changed the way that we have to raise them, how they need to react in private and in public. I can’t imagine always having to be on alert for my life. We have to do something. 2015 cannot be like 2014 in regards to the violence against us. I should be able to fully enjoy watching my son enjoy playing basketball without fearing the unknown.


Utopia by Angenita Williams

So much has been said about the tragedy of Ferguson. So much has been said about black on black crime and how we, as Black people, should really focus on that. So much has been said in regards to why the Black community needs more cops because Black commit the most crimes. So much has been said about race relations. So much…

Yet, while so much has been said, nothing has been said or listened to. Nothing has been absorbed into the minds of the United States of America. It shows with the blatant, intolerant, racist, and disrespectful remarks against young Black men who are killed, the people who march to protest the unlawful killings, and the brutal disregard for a human life under the guise of law.

It’s been open season on Black people – not just the men. The women as well. We are seen as beasts…unnatural, super strong abnormalities that have polluted this earth. Although…it was our people that built the pyramids. (Remember, they cannot be duplicated.) It was our people who scribed history on the walls of caves. The people who share skin tones of various hues taught this world how to read, count, season food, and build villages. My people were taken from their land to build this conundrum of takeover.

And we are supposed to just get over it. Although we are still feeling the consequences. Although slavery has taken the form of prison and mind poisoning through “reality” television and “hip-hop.”

I watched as my grandkids fell asleep. My grandson put his arm under my granddaughter, and they fell asleep holding on to one another. It was so moving to see their closeness. They are two (grandson) and three (granddaughter). And they already realize they have to hold on to each other. Even in slumber.

It also saddened me. This is my second generation. And to know that I am going to have to advise them that their skin makes them a target breaks my heart. I’m going to have to tell my grandson that even when he’s right, he’s wrong. He will always fit the description. And for my granddaughter, it’s virtually the same. And both will have to have smartphones so they can record their encounters. (If they have smartphones by then.)

What a sad, cold, cruel world…or maybe I should say – America.

What can we do to change things? Honestly, I don’t know. We are dealing with people who are told what to think, and not how to think. If we come with something that is outside the box…it’s preposterous! We are crazy. How dare we go outside what has been fed to us? Why cause that trouble?

Imagine how good things would be if we worked together to fix this broken system…

But we can’t because…let’s face it…we live in a country where skin color means more than the content of one’s character. A country where money drives everything.

I guess this is…Utopia…at least for those with rose-colored glasses on. And money to blind those that don’t.

Dear Janay by Angenita Williams

Dear Janay,

Hey Sis.

My spirit told me I had to reach out to you and to let you know that I understand what you are going through.

I know why you defend him. I know how it feels to be hurt by a man you love. And for all those on the outside, they have no idea what is real. This, what you have, is love, and until they understand that, they should leave you alone.

I get it.

But sis, what you don’t understand, is that this is not love. This is control.

I look at your beautiful face, and your eyes tell the story of how he breaks you down. He didn’t always strike you. He treated you like a queen. Got you what you need. There for you. Then one day, things changed. He hit you. He apologized, and went back to that good man. Then he hit you again. And the cycle continued.

I may be wrong. This could have been his first time. But the ease at which he hit you, with the strength he hit you with, and his callous reaction to it, shows me that he is no stranger to abusing you. He dragged you, even kicking you while you were out. He didn’t show that he cared…he showed annoyance. And you took the blame and apologized for your part – which was responding to a slap in the face.

Sis, love doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hit. It doesn’t toss you. It doesn’t belittle you. The Bible tells us that love is kind and patient. He clearly lost his patience, Love.

And I am only reaching out to you because I have been there. I was not only a witness to abuse, but I was a victim, and also a perpetrator. I thought I would get them before they got me. That didn’t work out so well either. I was told that no one would want me. If I didn’t fall in line, my dad would hate me. Weak men prayed on my weakness and lack of self love.

Sis, physical abuse is the escalation. The emotional and mental abuse starts first. I understand the cycle. So when you defend him, I get it. You have to. He is your man, and you ride for him as to be expected of any good wife. Ride or die.

But ask yourself…

Would he ride for you?

I’ll end this by saying, sis, love you first. Find you. Explore who and what you are. What is your purpose in life?

I pray that you find the happiness in life that everyone longs for. I pray your marriage lasts without further abuse. I pray that if the abuse continues, you find the strength to leave. I pray you become a survivor. I pray for your strength, life, and health.

Be strong. Hold your head. Know that some of us understand.




Tragedy and Travesty of Violence by Angenita Williams




We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us.

~ Jean-Paul Sartre

I cried when the Trayvon Martin verdict was read….I cried when I learned that Jordan Davis’ killer didn’t get convicted of his murder, but of attempted murder of his friends…I was in dismay and utter disbelief when Eric Garner’s death was ruled a homicide, yet it doesn’t appear an arrest has been made…and angered at how long it took to even get a name of the police officer that shot Michael Brown…

I’m left with the questions of how can my son, grandsons, and nephews trust the police to protect and serve them when they are viewed threats and unworthy of living? How can the community not be in a state of fear and depression when oppressors are all around them? How do these actions and circumstances differ from a 1960’s state of America? Isn’t this modern-day lynching? When is that change gone come? How is it gonna come?

Our men are accustomed to being the last rung on the ladder when it comes to this country. They are put down as nothing; regarded to animals. A professor by the name of Charles Carroll details this in his book “The Negro A Beast” or “In the Image of God” published in 1900. And something from so long ago still resonates in our country. It’s also worthy to note, the Bible is also used in this book to justify that Black people are not human, and according to page 138 of that text, scientific research demonstrates that “no wooly-haired nation has ever had an important history.”

It doesn’t help that Black America cannot unite unless some tragedy occurs; nor does it help that our youth of today buck authority, and just don’t care. But how can they when they are resorted to being shot like raging beasts when all they try to do is surrender, break up a fight, or lay face down and follow orders? Can one even imagine how depressing living in that manner is? It’s a wonder that we still have some strong men left in our community.

The stereotype of Black America will always supersede the accomplishments of Black America, and that alone makes for a bleak existence in this country. What is extremely disheartening is that many folks in the community either believe the stereotype completely or perpetuate it. Look at those who leave the ‘hood never to return, and snub their noses at where they came from. What about those who don’t reach back to the ‘hood to help those in need? What about those who refer to their own people as “useless, unkempt, and unnecessary?” Whatever the case, though, stereotypes should never, ever equal death. Books should never be judged by their cover, and when it comes to our men, the covering of their skin is justifiable homicide…simply because of America’s belief that black men are simply unworthy and animalistic. Men who were once deemed as kings are resorted to being less important that mistreated dogs. (See Michael Vick.)

The protests happening in Missouri attempt to thwart the notion that we can be peaceful. But it’s kinda hard to do when you have armored tanks, weapons, and tear gas descending upon you when all you want is justice. It’s hard to turn a cheek when you are being bullied by the powers that be. It’s really difficult when your questions have no answers. Peace is extremely hard to attain when there are a few indignant people causing mayhem. At this stage, no one will remember the good about the situation (peaceful protestors protecting businesses), but the bad that is being done out there right now.

My favorite author, Maya Angelou said it best: “If we lose love and self-respect for each other, this is how we finally die.” The best way to get our respect – is to LOVE each other, and stand together to not only right the wrongs of the forces that are upon us, but to also dismantle the killing of our own people by our own people. The youth of today have generations of worthlessness upon them. I’ve said it before, and I will keep saying it – fathers need to return to the home. The trends of the downfall of Black America can be directly correlated to the absence of a real dad. And when I say return to the home, I mean DO SOMETHING. Parent, participate, love, discipline, listen, and respect your kids. Because in all honesty, if we cannot come together and show that we are worthy, there are going to be many more Mike Browns, Eric Garners, Oscar Grants, Ezell Fords, Sean Bells, Trayvon Martins, Jordan Davis’s, Ramarley Grahams, etc…and justice will simply refuse to prevail.


Unbelievable! by Angenita Williams

symbolic illustration on violence against women - stock vector

It’s undeniably unbelievable that a man can be convicted of raping a woman, and he gets sentenced to twenty years, yet doesn’t do a day in jail. He gets to have eight years worth of home detention.

A pound of marijuana gets you up to three years behind bars.

Last time I checked, possessing marijuana isn’t violent.

Maybe he got to go home because he raped his wife. I mean, it IS her wifely duty to sex her husband, right?

Last time I checked, a woman can say no to any type of sexual pressure, no matter WHO it is.

This has me so heated because rape victims rarely come forward because of the scrutiny they face. It breaks down to a he said she said. And if her skirt is a little too high, her shirt a little to low, it is deemed as an invite for sex. I mean, she should know better, right? Like if she doesn’t want sex, she should cover herself and act like a lady, right?

Last time I checked, we can wear what we want, when we want, how we want, and we shouldn’t be subjected to the assumptions or force of men to fulfill their desires.

While I’m ranting, let me mention the woman in Indianapolis who was shot fourteen..yes…fourteen times by her ex-husband while they were in the midst of a custody battle. He was arrested in Kentucky and brought back to Indiana. She survived the attack. He was placed in jail on $100,000 bond. However, his bond has since been decreased to $25,000.

Why was his bond decreased? He pumped fourteen bullets into a woman. He is VIOLENT. WHY should he be offered a lower bond? He didn’t shoot her once or twice. He shot her fourteen times. He had malicious intent to kill, but now, if someone puts up $2,500, he could be walking around the neighborhood, looking for another opportunity to take her out. Oh, not to mention, a protection order was in place when this happened.


The only solution that I can think of is to be prepared. But really, how can you be prepared against a husband who forces you to have sex, then gets to go home? Sure it’s on his record. But he can have access to you. He can still be a threat. And you could call the police. But, would they make it in time?


Who Will Cry for the Little Black Boy? by Angenita Williams


…Who will cry for the little boy?
           Who knows well hurt and pain
                   Who will cry for the little boy?
                               He died again and again…
                                                     ~Antwone Fisher

First Trayvon. Now Jordan. Yet another pass was given to shoot our young black men on sight. First with the acquittal of Zimmerman. Now with the mistrial of Dunn. I just don’t understand…A young man…sitting in a car…hanging with his gunned down over loud music. His killer…not sentenced for murder, but attempted murder….three counts for every life that was spared that night…

While he will spend some time in jail, I guess there is some solace that he will never see the light of day again. He will be retried on the murder…still claiming he was standing his ground against the smart mouth of a teenager…who was sitting in a car…listening to music. Evidence shows that Jordan Davis was in no way moving to get out of the car…yet his killer says he was standing his ground.

I’m not quite sure I get it. Mouthing off is one thing. Pointing a gun and firing is another. Did you really need ten bullets to shut up a mouthy teenager? I guess so.

The bigger issue is that there is an attack mounted on our young black men. I truly believe that the education system is a pipeline to prison. There are some that can avoid it, but for many in low income, urban blight areas, there is hopelessness afoot. When day in and day out, all you are around is dilapidated conditions, and you are consistently told through the media, and through cases such as these, that your life isn’t worth a thing, you start to believe, behave, and become exactly what you are conditioned to believe about yourself. This is sending a strong message to our boys that they are not worth anything to anyone…and they never will. And their only aspirations are to be on someone’s music label, or someone’s court, or someone’s field. Signing contracts they can barely read and comprehend. Our young men have been thwarted in the abyss of foolishness as a way to live. Like it is ok for them to ride around and get it with the nina. They think, “It’s ok to take a boy’s life that looks like me because WE aren’t worth anything. Society tells us so. Even Momma and Daddy say that when Daddy never comes back, and Mommy has a new boyfriend.”

It’s a shame that living past twenty-five is a foreign concept to them. But given what’s out here, what can we expect. If we, as a community, cannot stand up to protect our sons, then we allow society to raise them into hollow shells of what they have the potential to be. It’s bad when someone outside our race does it, but it’s even worse because we also do it to ourselves. We have got to stop this trail of thinking….educate ourselves and our neighbors that it’s not ok to kill a man that looks like you. Why not try loving yourself so that you can love him, too? Good, strong, Black men, please rise. Don’t run from the issue, stand up and lead our boys. They are dying off, and leaving a generation of young Black girls to raise children on their own.

Cases like these strike fear in parents such as myself. I have a grown son. I have grandsons who will one day be teens. And as I stated in a previous blog, I cry for them. I am scared for them. Because it matters not their background, or how articulate they are. It matters not if they are wealthy or poor. All that matters is that they cannot go to the store, or speak back at vigilante who only has one thing on their mind…that they are the enemy. And the only thing that makes our little black boys the enemy is simply…the color of their skin.


Violence…Gotta Stop…by Angenita Williams

Gang members on the street, focus on guns - stock photo

I am appalled, saddened, heartbroken. Angry. Confused. Distraught.

My city is turning into a war zone. It brings up so much pain. I lost my young cousin at the age of twenty-two a few years ago due to violence. Every young man maimed by a bullet reminds me of him. Just last week, a friend of mine lost his sixteen-year-old brother. I ask myself when will it end.

I hate to watch the news now. I’m so afraid for my young son, his brothers, his closest friends. I am afraid for my brothers. My cousins. My friends. My sisters. My mothers. My grandmothers.

No one should have to endure the pain and agony of loosing their loved one in a senseless manner. And the sad part about the whole situation is that…absolutely NOTHING is being done to curb the violence. The ‘education’ system…or the pipeline to prison…is failing our kids miserably. The parents without a clue are failing our kids miserably. The VILLAGE is FAILING our KIDS.

Our young ladies do not respect themselves or love themselves enough to know that being a ‘bitch’ or a ‘bad bitch’ or a ‘main bitch’ is not an honor, it’s a disgrace. They are having babies by grown ass boys who probably didn’t have daddy there to show them the way…or maybe they did, and follow in his footsteps they shall. The family structure is deteriorating. And the kids are suffering.

And the legislature wants to ‘protect’ the nature of marriage between men and women. I’m sorry, but…it doesn’t look like the institution of heterosexual marriage is working. If the sex partners make it to the altar, there is a 50% chance it’s gonna end before either of them get to ’til death do us part.’

And when it’s all said and done….we’ve got angry boys out here mad at a world that frankly doesn’t give a damn about them. The President of the United States even acknowledged that our little black and brown boys have to fight extra hard just to make it. And when momma and daddy can’t get it together, grow up, and realize that this life is not about them, we leave the children to be raised by song lyrics, and aspirations to be a Basketball Wife, or to be on Bad Girls Club.

Seriously? We brought our kids into this?

What happened to the community that fought together to ensure we all got rights? The women with linked arms to make sure we could get jobs and work just like the men? What happened to the leaders who only want to pray and walk away? God can and will help the situation, but faith without works is dead. So we can either keep praying, and standby as our kids fall victim to what society wants them to, or we can rise as a community, build that strong family unit, and take it back from those who seek to destroy it.

I have two grandsons. Four nephews. And I cry because I know that before they will be men, they will be judged based on how they look. They are smart kids. Funny. Full of personality. I love them with all my heart. But my heart also weeps for them. I mean, it seems like if they make it to thirty, they will be considered seniors.

America…we’ve got to do better.


No Unity by Angenita Williams

I just have one question – Why are Black women scapegoats in the deterioration of our community?

I ask this question for a few reasons. One, I have seen at least three videos of Black men who say that Black women are the reason behind the fall of our community. One agreed with Bill O’Reilly when he said that is Black young ladies getting pregnant at a young age, not holding kids to being responsible, thwarting the notion of education, and raising violent kids as the reasons for the rise in Black on Black crime. Oh?

So, we just absolve the men of their responsibility in this as if pregnancy occurs without the input of a man. As if being a single parent is a dream. As if other young ladies of other races don’t get pregnant early.

The reason our community has fallen to the wayside is because there is no unity in the community, and no family unit. To thwart the notion that our history has nothing to do with it is straight tomfoolery.

Historically, the poor man, Black or White, was kept out of the home so that the mother could receive assistance. A lot of that had to do with the fact that the men of the home could not find employment to take care of his family. If he lived in the home, he stopped his children from eating. That helped create the cycle of fatherlessness as well. I mean, why would not ensure the entire family can eat? Why not promote the family unit? I don’t care what Bill O’Reilly says, our society now is a direct consequence of certain laws and stigmas created way back then. (Not to mention, Congress wants to eliminate abortion rights, and birth control. Not only that, they want to do away with programs to help the poor class. So, they want to tell me I can’t decided on when and where to have a kid, but they don’t want to assist with the raising of it…that’s another blog.)

Being a single parent is not a dream situation especially if you are young. People make mistakes, and younger people tend the have the thoughts of being invincible – the perpetual “It will never happen to me” thought process. What’s sad is that many go through these stages without the proper information about life. As parents, it is up to ALL of us to school our kids on the realness of life as a whole. And sex education is a part of that. The sex talk needs to be done in the home and at school, and not just the physical aspects. Contrary to popular belief, pregnancy is only ONE aspect of the danger of having sex too early. Like the emotional ties, the self worth consequences, the disappointments, diseases, and labels. We tell our sons to sow their oats, and tell our daughters to keep it tight. That is a mixed message if I’ve ever heard one. It’s ok for a man to have hundreds of women, but a woman is a whore. #DoubleStandard

Our kids see so much ratchetness and think that’s how life is supposed to be. Our entertainment influences (which is one thing I had to agree with) need to have a little more responsibility. I know it’s about money. I know the stars want to ‘get it.’ Being rich is virtually the American Dream. But to whom much is given, much is required. For Bible thumpers –It’s in the Bible. Luke 12:48.

The funny thing is, shows like All in the Family pushed the envelope, and it was not censored. It showed bigotry and sexism on a new level that could not be done today. But that has been replaced with shows like Basketball Wives and Love & Hip Hop. Notice the focus. Basketball and Hip-Hop – two areas that little Black kids aspire to be in. Is that a coincidence? Big booties and the illusion of having money. We, as a people, have turned into materialistic, amoral, and worst of all, selfish.

But it’s not just on the women. Men, you share your part in this whole cycle. We have created children out of lust, not love. And men and women BOTH have a part in that. The point where a man decides that having responsibility is too much or taking away from him is the point at which his children lose. What’s really messed up is that his father probably did it to him. Fatherlessness is a real epidemic, and these children are hurt, angry, and they feel worthless. So what do they do? Get aggressive. Resort to guns and the glorified lifestyle of drugs, cars (whips), jewelry (chains), and sex.

Let’s not forget – the Black woman had to put the master’s children before her own. She carried the weight of raising kids that were not hers, as she watched hers be taken from her and sold off. Remember, the Black woman had to carry the weight of the world, and still does, because she is not only a woman, but she is also Black. And to hear our Black men tear us down, and blame us for the breakdown of the community, well, it breaks my heart. I mean, we are supposed to have each other’s back, right? So I ask them – what are YOU doing to benefit YOUR community?


Healing Hidden Insecurities by Angenita Williams-Childs

Image free courtesy of

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog about domestic violence. I took three couples and compared and contrasted their domestic violence issues and outcomes: Ike and Tina, Rihanna and Chris, and Evelyn and Chad. The couple I want to discuss is Evelyn and Chad: partially because of what I wrote before, and partially because I watched her on Iyanla: Fix My Life on OWN.

Now, my assumption of Evelyn was based on what I “heard” through those who watched VH-1’s Basketball Wives. Reality shows that depict grown women showing out and acting a fool are a turn off for me. Honestly, any reality show that does little to motivate someone to do what’s right in life is a big turn off – Jersey Shore, Love and Hip-Hop Atlanta, Mob Wives or Bad Girls Club.

Anyway, Evelyn was, in Iyanla’s terms, a “thug amongst women.” She cussed any and everybody out. She leapt across tables. Threw drinks in people’s faces, and was the explosive one. She challenged everyone with her sharp tongue. She was just an all around hot mess with a pretty face.

Seeing her interviews with Iyanla actually made me realize something about her, me, and a lot of other women: this is the product of the “Daddy Syndrome”…and like my business partner said, a product of unhealed wounds.

Now everything that happened on Basketball Wives makes complete sense. Hear me out…

As a product of the “Daddy Syndrome,” I saw a lot of myself in her. She was angry, hurt, alone, looking for love in all the wrong places, and worse, sought validation of her self-worth in the arms of a man. The sad part is that it didn’t matter to her what man it was. She allowed herself to be used, abused, and cheated on. She gave the green light, not thinking she is worth enough to command respect. So many women deal with this daily.

The feelings of nothing that permeate their souls, stain their faces with tears. Give way to insomnia, drugs, alcohol. Depression, self hate and loss of all being happy because she somehow feels abandoned. Like how can she love herself if the man who created her didn’t? Like how could she ever hope to have a man in her life, when the very first one she knew walked out on her?

Men really don’t know just how much their absence affects a young girl who wants her dad’s love and attention. All she wants him to do is love her, be there for her, make her feel special. And when he doesn’t, the empty promises made by those who see her weakness sound good, real good… so sweet and tender. That is, until he talks her panties off, and is finished with her…leaving a trail of heartache, heartbreak, and more damage to her self-worth.  I think more damage is done when dad is alive and right around the corner, or a phone call away, yet never does. There is an empty inside and the constant question of why…Why doesn’t he love me? Am I that bad? Did I do something to make him turn his back on me?

I saw it all over her. She had some deep rooted Daddy issues, but what makes it worse is that she was never taught to heal. She didn’t know how. She set herself up in the same situations with different bodies, and couldn’t see the road she traveled. She didn’t recognize the patterns. It all was familiar to her. And sadly, her blindness about herself made her react in ways that were unbecoming of a lady. The hard exterior was her shell of protection to let no one in. She was angry, and displaced.

I knew exactly what she felt. I, too, went that route. I was angry and sad. But I was able to start my healing through writing my portion of Revealing & Healing: 3 Women’s Stories of Survival. It’s funny because until I wrote out some of the most intimate details of my life, I didn’t realize how bad I truly was, how depressed I was, how unhappy I was. I thought I was confident, but I wasn’t. I too still had Daddy issues. I didn’t know how those issues affected me in my relationships until I wrote them out and saw the similarities of relationships gone wrong.

Now, I’m not all on her side, because I still believe that she is not telling the entire truth. I think some of her anger and attitude still got the best of her. I’m only saying that now, I understand. I get it. So Evelyn, time out for all that. It’s time to start healing. You’ve got to be real with who you really are. Once you do that, the process can begin. There are two great loves in this world; the love of God, and the love of self. I tend to think they go hand in hand.

Healing starts when the pain is its greatest. We cannot continue to carry the burdens of the past on our shoulders. Open wounds get infected. It’s time to clean them out and stitch them up.


It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye by Angenita Williams-Childs

“And I’ll take with me the memories to be my sunshine after the rain…” ~ Boyz II Men

One week, and one day ago, I had a tremendous loss in my family. My cousin, a young man I watched as a baby, a young man that was close to my son, a young man that spent numerous nights in my home, was gunned down over an accusation made by someone who likes drama. (Purely my speculation as I do not know the person)

I won’t go into all the details about this because I just won’t. I’ve heard and told the story many times. But this hurts me. I cried for close to two days straight. I was awake for over thirty-six hours trying to make sense of this untimely death. And I wondered why it hit me so hard? I lost my grandmother in 2008, and while that hit me hard as well, the pain from my cousin’s death cut me deeper. After I thought about it for a while, I came to the conclusion that my grandmother lived her life. She did what she wanted to do, she raised her children, grandchildren, and lived to see great-grandchildren. My grandmother experienced life. My cousin didn’t.

At 22, his life was cut short. He had no children (that I know of), but he had a niece and nephew, four sisters, one brother, mother, father, two grandmothers, several uncles, aunts, and cousins. And someone decided they didn’t like him. That someone took his life without regards to his family or friends. This someone decided it was time for him to die. Someone left a void in me. A true void.

You read and hear about things like this in the news, and you thank God that it isn’t your family. You say prayers for the family, and you move on. You hope the person who did it gets caught. Sometimes, you keep that family in your prayers for a while, but how do you cope when it is your family? I’m trying to figure it out.

I’m gonna close out now, pain deeply rooted in my chest. In a little over 24 hours, I will attend his funeral. I just ask God to give me the strength to get through it.


 To “Antman” – I love you, I miss you, I know you’ll watch over us. I’m so hurt that you’re gone. I feel lost without you here. I know God makes no mistakes, but I can’t help to ask why you.

Rest in Heaven Anthony D. Edwards. 1989-2011

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