Quiet Rage by Carla McNeal -Journal 6

When I think of the words quiet rage, it is like an oxymoron, how can these two words comply with each other? Yet I know this is the overwhelming emotions I carry within myself everyday. I have some anger issues that I must deal with, the deaths of my three sons, two as infants, Matthew born on November 14, 1982 died at 14 days old in the hospital. My son Kendall who died of hypo plastic left heart at the Cleveland Clinic at the age of 5 months 1995. Then the murder of my 18 year old son Jeremy July 23. 2001 . Damn! I am angry at myself for maybe not being the smartest or best mother in the world. I am angry at God, but it's not his fault either. My babies Kendall and Matthew were here on this earth a short time and I was blessed with their love and their lives. Believe it or not when it is time for their birthdays' I can feel them in my(phantom) womb moving around reminding me that I am their mother. The murder of my son Jeremy just keeps pulling at me , only the other day when I was watching t.v., there was a young man on it , he was vibrant and full of life like my son Jeremy and there I broke down crying. Aching for my sons' is all too common for me, yet I am very thankful for my daughter Jessica and grandson Roman. I am very thankful for my sons' Dominic and Trey,my prayers are with them everyday. The monster who killed my son Jeremy is still out there and I don't like it; a monster by the way is a cruel , evil, and insensitive human being someone that I will hunt until I die. I used to care about what other's thought of me, you know about all this merciful stuff and somehow forgiving the murderer or somehow letting it go, I can't, I've tried; If someone should happen to kill your son or daughter, then you make the choice you can live with . The strength that endures in me is only because it must, if the killer or killers of my son thinks that this over, you are wrong. You are wrong because i bet you don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of and you call yourself godlike because you took my son's life in the most cowardly fashion there was, my son could not even fight back you s.o.b. I hope that today your life is a living hell, like the one you made for me and mine when you took one of the most precious human beings God put on this earth.