Monday, June 26, 2017

You Don't Know What Loss Is

***Disclaimer- There is some not so friendly language and thoughts here. FYI.

I have one to share today that has been rattling around in my over productive brain for a few weeks now, basically since we attended Nora's bond hearing back in March.

We thought we were prepared for that day, and once again, we were proven wrong. I keep waiting for this to get easier, as people love to remind us. I keep waiting for time to heal us, when time just keeps passing us by...

I thought that the hardest thing about that day was having to look at the woman that is accused of murdering my nephew. To see the actual hands that threw his little body across the room moments before his life ended. To see the hands of the monster that could have sat him in a play pen, and dialed any one of our telephone numbers, but instead tossed John to his death. But those hands were cuffed, and as much comfort as I could get from that, I was disgusted by another sight.

The sight of the woman sitting behind her daughter, willing to lie to protect a killer. A different kind of monster... now let me dive into that...

I have debated naming Nora's mother. Debated what legal repercussions there may be, but I don't see how anything I post here, hasn't already been shared with the media, and I am entitled to feel as I do...So Deborah Boles I have a thing or two to tell the world about you.

First I will start with this, you will NEVER KNOW THE LOSS WE HAVE ENDURED. Losing your murderous daughter to jail will NEVER. EVER. be even remotely similar to what your family has done to ours. NEVER. Someday you will get to hold your child again. You can call and talk to her everyday. Go see her when you have time. Do you know what we have? We have a headstone that we decorate for the holidays. We have a second birthday to celebrate in a few short months, and no baby to blow out the candles. We have empty arms, and even more empty hearts. When I saw your face on the news, talking about "your loss"...I damn near puked. Your LOSS? You don't know what loss is.

This is how we visit John. You don't know what loss is.
Second, while we attended your daughter's bond hearing, you claimed that you checked on John after he sustained his injuries, and so did your huband...and he seemed okay. Just shortly before that you admitted to having owned a licensed daycare, and being certified, and when you checked on John...he seemed...fine?

Wait.

Wait.

So you were once a licensed daycare owner, which I assume means you took a CPR class at one point or another. And you realize that when a child isn't breathing properly and they have sustained a head injury...they're probably not fine...right?

Okay, so maybe you overlooked multiple severe head injuries, and a blue non responsive baby...okay...but here is where I am about to unload a shit ton of hate on you. Even if you thought he was fine...you're lying. Either you never checked on him at all, or you checked on him and you are a complete and utter fucking idiot. I know, that you knew, that baby was hurt. And you are trying to cover for a killer. But whatever...it's your conscience not mine.

What perturbs me the most is that you admitted to knowing a baby sustained a head injury, was having breathing problems, and sleeping all day...but you couldn't even be bothered to dial 911?Notify his mother. Nothing. I will NEVER forgive you for that. You could have done something so small. A simple call. Instead you lied. And lied, and continue to lie for your child THAT IS ACCUSED OF FIRST DEGREE MURDER OF AN ELEVEN MONTH OLD CHILD!

But, alas...let me get to my most final point in typing this blog...clearly you can tell that I lack any humanity when it comes to the Boles family. They destroyed my sister's heart, took life from an innocent and purely loving child...and I have no qualm with telling the world that it is very clear that the apple did not fall from the tree when it comes to Nora and her mother, Deborah. But this is how I feel. These are my thoughts, emotions...hatred. Not my family's, not Angela's...my own. I pray to whatever is out there, Deborah, that your daughter NEVER sees the outside of a jail cell again. I wish much worse for her if I'm going to be honest. And you should be sitting right there beside her, first class seats to hell.

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