![]() |
| Imagination I am going to tell you something that I do not understand, but I am going to explain it to you, anyway. When you hear that my daughter, my eighteen year old Kimberly, was killed, you say that you can't imagine the pain. Here is what I don't understand ~ ~ I can't imagine it either. I can feel it, taste it, smell it, live it every day, but I can not imagine it. I assume the brain cannot imagine something so horrible. Edgar Allen Poe nor Steven King could ever create such a nightmare. People like me can awaken to it daily and live the nightmare every second of every day. But even as we live it, we can not imagine it. I wish I didn't have to live it. I wish I didn't have to "know" it, even though I can't understand nor imagine it. Imagination is not that horrible. Imagination has boundries.This is beyond boundries, beyond walls, beyond fences, beyond imagination. So you might as well stop trying to imagine. Don't go there, you really don't want to. I pray you never have to. It's so alone out here. No matter how many of us are out here, we are still alone. We see others. We hear others. We understand the others who are here, but we ultimately are still alone in our individual situations. Those of us who are here are the only ones who can come close to understanding, but we still can't imagine being here. I know it does not make sense. I told you at the beginning I would tell you something I do not understand; something no one can imagine, something no one wants to know. I did not paragraph this on purpose. There is a beginning but no end, no place to paragraph, no words explain, no imagination explains, nothing......... Yolonda Moore Mother of Kimberly Ann Moore December 7 1978 ~~November 14 1997 |
![]() |
| Please sign my guest book |
| Cara ~~ Netta's angel |