He is heart of my heart.
He is wide-eyed and wonderfull.
His dew drop lips are trying so hard.
So hard to make the sounds that will lead to speech.
He looks at me and we are connected without words.
Bonding through the everyday necessities of life.
He is wise for his days.
An old soul with an ageless heart.
I want him to be strong and undefiled.
I present him proudly to the western medicine man.
I hold him after the sharp sting.
He sniffles and smiles.
Awakened from well-deserved sleep.
He is burning and screaming.
Pow-wowing all night in songs and prayers.
Where are you my son?
Yellow-tinged, and oh so very tired you emerge.
But not completely for your words are gone.
He is still asleep.
I will cover him in healing kisses.
Body growing leaps and bounds.
The mind also but they just can't see it yet.
Daily life in a time machine of
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
He is knowledge assimilating in a kalidescope .
Shaken and stirred into fragments.
Rearranged by upsets in routine.
The contents undeciphered but priceless.
They analyze him for profit.
He analyzes them with wiser eyes.
He sees through the piety of professionalism and insincerity.
He makes small talk with ease to avoid the taboo subjects.
He has told me a joke today.
One he made up himself .
We laugh and laugh till it hurts deliciously.
There is light in his eyes and dew drops on his lips
The standard social skills seem boring and contrived now.
You have been a godsend to me.
I have become a fighter not just for you but for myself.
I have faced demons that you have cornered for me.
Where are you my son?
In my pen and in my heart, always in my heart.
In you I have found a better world that needs no words.
But you have given me words and now I write them.
My son Matthew Joseph Freeman's life has not been an easy one.
In my first trimester of pregnancy, I became quite ill with an immune
disorder and Lyme's Disease. I was told the baby would be "a vegetable",
if he survived at all. We were advised to "terminate" our pregnancy. We
cried and prayed, and decided that whatever the outcome, our child will
The pregnancy progressed well and our baby grew to above average
standards. On June 25, 1990, our son Matthew was born weighing
11 pounds 10ounces.It was a hard delivery with complications from
carelessly used forceps. He sustained cerebral palsy. He was given
his first series of vaccinations at the age of three months. He sustained
serious liver complications, encephalitis, and Asperger's Autism. He
suffered petite-mal seizures and gastro-intestinal conditions causing
an inflammed appendix that was removed at age 12. He has hearing loss
in both ears from the many high fevers and infections he has had from a
vaccine-damaged immune system. He also has a dimished sense of smell.
Now the good news:
Many of his physical ailments have been healed.
He is my confidante and personal cheering squad. He is hysterically
funny and quick-witted. He is a selfless giver, a true friend, and a true
gentleman.He has taught me not to be too critical of myself or others.
Thank goodness he's a walking spell-check, because he's saved my
neck gramatically on many occasions. I often wonder just how many
wonderful people have been denied admittance onto the planet
due to the unforgiving and legalistic parameters of the abortion industry.
I love you dearly son.
Matthew: means "gift from God", Joseph: is a derivation of Jesus.
I can say that both God the Father and the Son have helped Matthew
to thrive, heal, and flourish. He is much-loved and well-liked with many
friends. God is good.