Happy Birthday to My Mom
Happy Birthday to My Mom
Sending Birthday Wishes to Heaven
Today is my mom’s seventy-seventh birthday.
Rather, it would be my mom’s birthday, if she hadn’t believed the lies that were told to her by her own government.
If she hadn’t believed the lies that were perpetuated by media personalities, whom my mom had come to respect and trust.
I get it that she backed the wrong horse. I understand that she put her faith in the wrong people. I know that she was gullible, and that it was her trusting nature that led to her own destruction.
There are those who say that she is to blame, for allowing herself to be the victim of a horrible crime. To me, that line of thinking is upside-down.
Convincing the people to blame the victims for the crime that was committed against them is very convenient to the criminals. Is it not?
The incrimination of the injured lets the culprit off the hook.
If your inclination is to tell me that she did this to herself, save your breath. In her life, my mom never did anything to hurt anyone. I will never be convinced that she was at fault.
I will never be convinced that any victim of any crime is the responsible party.
Anyway, my mom was born on September 6, 1947. She was the second of three post-war babies. Her father had been a tail-gunner in the battle of Guadalcanal, and her mother had been a riveter, building the airplanes while the men were away.
On her twenty-second birthday, my mom gave birth to a baby boy. My brother was born on September 6, 1969. Much to my chagrin, she always said that John was the best birthday present that she ever got.
Two years later, twelve days before her birthday, she had a baby girl. I was born on August 25, 1971.
We always celebrated our birthdays together. My mom was never comfortable with lavish displays or with unnecessary attention, so our annual party was a quiet observance. It included a home-cooked meal, a humble cake, and an exchange of thoughtful, often practical, gifts.
My mom’s final birthday celebration was her biggest birthday celebration. Her best friend, Penny, was the mastermind behind the entire affair. Knowing that September 6, 2022 would my mom’s last birthday on earth, Penny gathered together the whole community, to bring cards, gifts and expressions of love. It was a very special day.
This year, my mom is with God. She has been spared from the suffering that we are now witnessing here, on earth.
It seems that the victims of the crime that is referred to as the Covid-19 vaccine are still getting sick. It seems as if they will keep getting sick. It feels like the repercussions will continue on for ages.
And what can we do?
Those of us who have been screaming out warnings have been screaming for years. Somehow, many have been rendered deaf to our cries.
It has been frustrating, to say the least.
Until my mom got sick, I had been yelling at her, trying to force her to see the danger that I saw. Once I knew that the damage of the vaccine had been done, I went quiet. There was nothing left to shout about. I could not take out of her what had been put in. I could not change what had happened.
Once she was overrun by turbo cancer, all that I could do was to love her.
So, that is what I did. Until she took her last breath, I showed her the love that she had always shown.
There are millions of victims of this crime. It seems that many of them can not, or will not, admit to themselves that they backed the wrong horse. We stand by and watch as they succumb to the evil that was injected into their arm.
What can we do now, other than to love them?
I miss my mom every day. I miss her a little bit extra during this birthday season.
If you have read my mom’s story, think of her today. Send a little birthday wish to heaven. She will be surprised by all of the attention
Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. Lamentations 3:32
If you appreciate my words, please share them with the world:
To know the whole story, start at the beginning:
I am not a doctor, a scientist or an investigative journalist.
I am a daughter, a mom, an artist and a storyteller.
I have a story to tell about turbo cancer.
I have a story about our failed medical system
I will tell it to anyone who will listen.
On June 12, 2022, after four Pfizer injections, my very healthy mom was suddenly diagnosed with stage-IV pancreatic cancer in her left inguinal groin lymph node, B-cell lymphoma, and melanoma. Her immune system had failed completely. The fast-growing tumors spread to her bones, breaking them from the inside. She lived, suffering, until December 13.
I was her full-time caregiver.
Beginning June 11, 2023, day by day, using memories, photos, text conversations, medical records, my journal, and my mom’s journal, I chronicled the story of her disease on Facebook. I told about the progression of her illness, the failed medical response, her unimaginable pain, her experience, my experience, and how her spirit refused to be broken.
My mom represents millions of people who were deceived, intimidated or forced into receiving an injection. Her story is all of our story.
On This Day, Last Year - Six Months of Turbo Cancer
Turbo Cancer: The Beginning - June 11, 2022
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Feb 3
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One of the most profound things that you wrote about Mom was how interested she was in other people and learning from other people who were different than her. Like an 'America from the past' or the 'ideal America.'
When you write here that she has now been spared the suffering of what we are witnessing here on earth, I think you have nailed it. There are some people in my life who died before 2020 who I think could not have handled what happened these past few years.
For the many people who are dying now, it makes me wonder about what is coming.
Thank you again for your writing, happy birthday to Mom. I said a birthday prayer for her, and you.
Happy Birthday in heaven Mom💐 Thank you for raising such a gifted and special daughter. 🎈🙏