Grieving: Death Always Comes in Threes

One day at a gathering at my best friends cousins house, I met a young man who came over. I hadn’t ever met him before but saw first hand how much everyone there, both friends and his family, loved him. Fast forward to last Tuesday. He meets up with his cousin at a park and ends up shot several times, allegedly over money. The shot to the back of his head leaves him brain dead and he dies about a week later. The initial shock the night he was shot, left my bestie and myself in tears. Regardless to how doctors offered false hope concerning his recovery, every one who loved him was left broken hearted and with a hole in their hearts where he used to be. This young man was a single father of a young boy who will never see his Daddy again.

I can’t imagine being a mother of a 36 year old man and finding out he was shot and killed in the middle of the night by someone who shared the same bloodline. I couldn’t imagine being a mother of any child who dies before me. But unfortunately, I know several mothers and fathers who live daily with aching hearts because their child is no longer with them. No parent should have to endure such pain. But if you believe in God, you know that God makes no mistakes. For mothers of murdered children, it hurts more how their children left this world, then their actual death because we all know from dust we were made and to dust we will return. Murder is such a senseless, cowardly act.

There is a myth some people believe that states death happens in threes. I don’t like to believe in superstitions, but I have actually witnessed this. After this young man passed, another young man, barely 30 years old whom I knew through a very good friend of mine died in a house fire while he was asleep. That broke my heart too because his girlfriend is like a sister to me and her devastation is heartbreaking to watch. The next day a friend I met through Face Book gained his wings as well. Threes. It shouldn’t be fathomable that this tale would be true, but in my experience it usually comes to pass.

There have been several murders a day between my town, Tuscaloosa. and surrounding counties, such as Birmingham. The occurrence of gun violence has steadily increased over the past couple of years. We are constantly burying our sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters and their murderers have no regard for human life at all. Shootings should not be the norm. I blame the murderers, not the victims. There is always another way to handle a situation that gunning someone down in cold blood.

Before I say this, I want to preface it with in no way, do I blame any parent for the actions of their grown children. But, I do believe that discipline for bad behavior has to start at home. I think that we have got to do better as parents and members of their village. We have to watch over our children and protect them physically and with prayer. In the news here there have been several small children picked up by police or concerned citizens after they’ve wandered away from home. How do you not know where your two year old is? How do you not know your child is not in the house. It starts at home. We have got to pay more attention. With sex trafficking on the rise, we need to be diligent about protecting our children.

It costs nothing to teach love, respect, and kindness. As parents, it’s our job to teach the first lessons our children will learn because the world will teach them enough rough ones without our help. If we teach the right ones while they are growing up, perhaps the wrong ones will not have such a negative impact on their lives. Perhaps then, in the near future, if we must lose our babies at an early age, it won’t be at the hands of family or friends. But at the same time, gun violence is so prevalent these days that I can’t honestly say I believe it will never be a thing of the past because, sadly, no one is listening. They would rather gun you down than talk. It makes no sense!

I’m disappointed and saddened,


#grief #itcomesinthrees #saveourchildren #gunviolence #tuscaloosaalabama

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