After almost two years the whole thing has come to an end. And although not a single minute will be forgotten at least we finally got some justice, for what it's worth. The man who did this to my nephew will be in jail for at least the next twenty years.
Click here for the actual news article.
Rest in Peace sweet Vincent. Love for you, always.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Baby Vincent
Hey baby,
I'm sorry I haven't posted anything lately. I want you to know we all still miss you down here. You'd be 3 now and talking with only few problems with all us grown-ups understanding. Sometimes I think about if you would have come to live with me. I know--impossible. Your dad never would have allowed that. He loved you to much to let you come here and stay with me. But it would have been nice, wouldn't it?
I miss you so much sometimes that I can't stand it Vince. You're the lucky one, I know that. It would be nice if you could have stayed with you just a little bit longer. Life really is too much drama but I wish you would have gotten more of a chance at it little one.
Your sister is coming here in February to stay with me for a while. She's so pretty and she looks so much like you. She doesn't sleep like you did, and she isn't quite as patient as you were, or laid back. She only wants to cuddle when SHE wants to cuddle. It reminds me of your dad and me when we were little. She's so much like me and you were so much like him. Isn't that funny? You two had almost exactly the same age difference as us too. Wish you could be here to watch out for her like your dad did for me (not always well, but I'd give him an A for effort anyway)
Have fun with the angels pumpkin and tell teed and rd hi for me. And that I miss them. Oh, don't forget to tell Teed I'm sorry... and that I have her paintings although I know how much she wanted your pops to have them. That should make here smile.
Love you chunk-a-butt!
I'm sorry I haven't posted anything lately. I want you to know we all still miss you down here. You'd be 3 now and talking with only few problems with all us grown-ups understanding. Sometimes I think about if you would have come to live with me. I know--impossible. Your dad never would have allowed that. He loved you to much to let you come here and stay with me. But it would have been nice, wouldn't it?
I miss you so much sometimes that I can't stand it Vince. You're the lucky one, I know that. It would be nice if you could have stayed with you just a little bit longer. Life really is too much drama but I wish you would have gotten more of a chance at it little one.
Your sister is coming here in February to stay with me for a while. She's so pretty and she looks so much like you. She doesn't sleep like you did, and she isn't quite as patient as you were, or laid back. She only wants to cuddle when SHE wants to cuddle. It reminds me of your dad and me when we were little. She's so much like me and you were so much like him. Isn't that funny? You two had almost exactly the same age difference as us too. Wish you could be here to watch out for her like your dad did for me (not always well, but I'd give him an A for effort anyway)
Have fun with the angels pumpkin and tell teed and rd hi for me. And that I miss them. Oh, don't forget to tell Teed I'm sorry... and that I have her paintings although I know how much she wanted your pops to have them. That should make here smile.
Love you chunk-a-butt!
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas
Mr. Vincent James,
Merry Christmas. We are all missing you here. We hung your stocking up even though you weren't here to spend Christmas with us. I hope you got some cool presents up there with the angels.
I love you so much Vince
Merry Christmas. We are all missing you here. We hung your stocking up even though you weren't here to spend Christmas with us. I hope you got some cool presents up there with the angels.
I love you so much Vince
Monday, November 29, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving
I know I'm late again. But better late than never. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving little man. All the potatoes you could eat. We all missed you down here. Love you cutie.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Happy Halloween
Dear Baby,
Happy Halloween Pumpkin! I'm sorry I'm one day late.
Do you remember last year? You were sooooo tiny but we carved pumpkin together.
And then later you went trick-o-treating with your cousins and dressed up like a tiger.
I hope you did something fun up in heaven this year, and got alot of candy. You're lucky, I'm sure it doesn't matter how much you eat, you still won't rot your teeth.
I miss you chunk-a-butt.
Love.
Aunt sissy
Monday, August 9, 2010
Happy Birthday Vincent
Happy Birthday Vince. I wish you were here to spend it with me. I love you, baby.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A Speech
I wrote something for my cousin to read at a charity event... I want to post it on here because I really think it explains how I feel. I won't post all of it because some of it is just the signs..but I want to post my feelings.. So here it is...
I miss him and not just sometimes but every day. I dream about him often and most of the time I think he sends them and that idea makes me happy even though afterward it hurts to wake up. The reality of the situation returns and I feel like I’m losing him all over again.
His pictures are scattered around my house and sometimes I look at them and think he’s still here and then it hurts exactly like it did that day. I used to think about when he would graduate from high school and maybe he would come and live with me for a summer before college. I would think he might call me and tell me about his girlfriends or other things he didn’t want to talk to his parents about.
I hate that I can’t have that but even more I hate that he can’t have that. Not just with me but with anyone. He was stolen and not just from me and my family but from the world.
And he’s not the only one.
Child abuse happens every single day. It doesn’t matter if we are consciously thinking about it, or not. It’s happening around us.
I knew of its existence before, I’d read articles about it or seen it on small sections of a news cast but it never completely set in that it was real—until this. It was something that existed somewhere, but not where I was. It happened to people I didn’t know, never me or my family.
There were signs of course, but I was not familiar enough with the subject to identify them until afterward.
I saw Vincent twice in the last six months but I knew something was different I just didn’t know what it was. Before those 6 months I saw him at least every other weekend. He was always a very…passive boy. He could watch an entire football game in his dads lap—clapping on cue with him. I don’t even have that kind of attention span. But Vince did and he was happy, so happy.
The last time I saw him he was not happy. He had a few bruises on his head and body which were explained to me as this or that. He jammed his finger in the toy box or he tripped and fell on the cement.
At the time this seemed normal to me. Kids do that, right? Every one of my nieces and nephews has had about a million bruises. The ones on Vincent were different though, I just didn’t notice it at the time.
I had another sign, a very subtle one that should have told me what was happening. Almost exactly a week before it happened, while Vincent was over at my mom’s house, Jim (my stepdad) and I were arguing about something. Not in an angry way but we each thought we were right and the other was wrong. As we spoke, our voice continued to get louder and louder, as it tends to do in my family. Soon, Jim must have realized I wasn’t going to give up so he began to yell and tickle me.
Within only seconds Vincent and Anna, my niece, began to scream. We stopped of course, stunned, and I remember looking at Vincent, and seeing… terror cross his face.
Jim picked up Anna and almost immediately she was fine. I picked up Vincent, and my mother and I began to talk to him. But he was not fine. He took maybe ten minutes to get him to calm down and smile again.
I think about this day a lot because I know that when I should have noticed something was not only different but something was wrong. If I had known any of the signs, what you’re suppose to look for, regarding child abuse I would have known and maybe I could have saved him. But I didn’t know.
I miss him and not just sometimes but every day. I dream about him often and most of the time I think he sends them and that idea makes me happy even though afterward it hurts to wake up. The reality of the situation returns and I feel like I’m losing him all over again.
His pictures are scattered around my house and sometimes I look at them and think he’s still here and then it hurts exactly like it did that day. I used to think about when he would graduate from high school and maybe he would come and live with me for a summer before college. I would think he might call me and tell me about his girlfriends or other things he didn’t want to talk to his parents about.
I hate that I can’t have that but even more I hate that he can’t have that. Not just with me but with anyone. He was stolen and not just from me and my family but from the world.
And he’s not the only one.
Child abuse happens every single day. It doesn’t matter if we are consciously thinking about it, or not. It’s happening around us.
I knew of its existence before, I’d read articles about it or seen it on small sections of a news cast but it never completely set in that it was real—until this. It was something that existed somewhere, but not where I was. It happened to people I didn’t know, never me or my family.
There were signs of course, but I was not familiar enough with the subject to identify them until afterward.
I saw Vincent twice in the last six months but I knew something was different I just didn’t know what it was. Before those 6 months I saw him at least every other weekend. He was always a very…passive boy. He could watch an entire football game in his dads lap—clapping on cue with him. I don’t even have that kind of attention span. But Vince did and he was happy, so happy.
The last time I saw him he was not happy. He had a few bruises on his head and body which were explained to me as this or that. He jammed his finger in the toy box or he tripped and fell on the cement.
At the time this seemed normal to me. Kids do that, right? Every one of my nieces and nephews has had about a million bruises. The ones on Vincent were different though, I just didn’t notice it at the time.
I had another sign, a very subtle one that should have told me what was happening. Almost exactly a week before it happened, while Vincent was over at my mom’s house, Jim (my stepdad) and I were arguing about something. Not in an angry way but we each thought we were right and the other was wrong. As we spoke, our voice continued to get louder and louder, as it tends to do in my family. Soon, Jim must have realized I wasn’t going to give up so he began to yell and tickle me.
Within only seconds Vincent and Anna, my niece, began to scream. We stopped of course, stunned, and I remember looking at Vincent, and seeing… terror cross his face.
Jim picked up Anna and almost immediately she was fine. I picked up Vincent, and my mother and I began to talk to him. But he was not fine. He took maybe ten minutes to get him to calm down and smile again.
I think about this day a lot because I know that when I should have noticed something was not only different but something was wrong. If I had known any of the signs, what you’re suppose to look for, regarding child abuse I would have known and maybe I could have saved him. But I didn’t know.
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