NOTE PARTICULARLY !  THIS IS WRITTEN BY A MUSLIM.

Sigrid's Blog * America Then and Now

It sure makes interesting reading… particularly coming from a noted Pakistani.                          By: Dr FarrukhSaleem

The writer is the Pakistani Executive Director of the Center for Research and Security Studies, a think tank established in 2007, and an Islamabad-based freelance columnist.

Why are Jews so powerful?

There are only 14 million Jews in the world; seven million in the Americas , five million in Asia, two million in Europe and 100,000 in Africa . For every single Jew in the world there are 100 Muslims.

Yet, Jews are more than a hundred times more powerful than all the Muslims put together.

Ever wondered why?

Jesus of Nazareth was Jewish. Albert Einstein, the most influential scientist of all time and  TIME magazine’s ‘Person of the Century’, was a Jew.

Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis was a Jew…

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Thoughts Surrounding The Loss of Colby Scott Allen Sackett

On Valentines Day of 2019 our family suffered a great loss. Colby Scott Allen Sackett was my first cousin’s grandson, who lived in Alberta, Canada. He was coming home from boarding school  to spend a long week-end with his parents and younger brother. He was killed in a head on collision. It was his eighteenth birthday. I am putting memories of the memorial, and words shared from his two grandparents, his parents, and his brother, on and around the time of the memorial, and after. This is my tribute to keep his memory alive for future generations of my family. With deep love and sadness I offer this blog to the world as well ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
This first offering is Scott Sackett, Colby’s dad, referring to the poem his dad, Glenn Sackett, read at the Memorial………….

Here is the poem my dad read at Colby’s memorial service. I’ve never been much for poetry, but I’ve read this one everyday for the last week and a half and it helps my heart. It’s ok if it’s not your thing, it wasn’t my thing two weeks ago either.

ON THE DEATH OF THE BELOVED

Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.

Your love was like the dawn
Brightening over our lives,
Awakening beneath the dark
A further adventure of color.

The sound of your voice
Found for us
A new music
That brightened everything.

Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
Quickened in the joy of its being;
You placed smiles like flowers
On the altar of the heart.
Your mind always sparkled
With wonder at things.

Though your days here were brief,
Your spirit was alive, awake, complete.

We look toward each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul’s gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows,
And music echoes eternal tones.

When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.

May you continue to inspire us:

To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.

John O’Donohue
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

From Colby’s Dad…………

Oh, Dear Family and Friends,

I’ve started this post a thousand times in the last few days…

Our hearts are broken to pieces with the loss of our dear son and brother, Colby. He was such a beautiful, vibrant piece of our lives. We love that kid.

But even as the waves of sadness have threatened to engulf us in despair, we are buoyed by our faith in the Almighty, our love for Colbs, and the overwhelming kindness of our families and communities.

If I’m honest, it’s a kindness that I never wanted to see, because it’s magnitude can only be seen, felt, and understood in the darkest of places, but we are so indescribably grateful to all of you in this time of sorrow.

You guys…

Our dear friends who have dropped everything to be by our sides and the army of you that have offered us anything we need and meant it from the bottom of your hearts. Our families, near and far, who share our grief and hold us up. The prayers sent up by family and friends and the kind words shared with us through so many avenues. Our church families who have given so much of themselves to make sure we’re cared for. Our school families who have jumped in to take away any burden they can. The generous souls who have donated time, effort, tears, money, food, and love to help us grieve for and honour our son. And the stories…

The stories have been my lifeline…thank you so much to all of you who have shared with us what Colby meant to you and how you remember him. Reading those helps me with the daily battle to think more about his life than his death. To remember all the wonderful time I spent with my amazing boy. All the fun we had, all the adventures we shared, all the things we learned from each other, that constant smile on his face and his infectious enthusiasm for life. It is so painful to think of life without him, but how much richer am I for those 18 precious years that I spent with him? I wouldn’t trade them for the world. So to every single one of you who has cared for us in a multitude of ways in these past few days, I owe you a debt I will never be able to repay. Thank you.

Kerry and Jaxon have been so courageous and strong through all of this, but we know it will be a tough few days ahead, followed by a tough few weeks, and years, and decades…but we are strengthened by the promises of our saviour and the amazing people who have surrounded us with love. Thank you for all that you have done and will do to help us move to the place where our happiness about our time with Colbs outweighs the sorrow of living without him.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

From Colby’s mom………..

A Tribute to My First Born❤️

To My Sweet Boy,

Colby, you were the baby I longed for, you were perfect in every way. Your big blue eyes, your soft skin, and your snuggly ways. I believe I held you for the entire first year of your life. You were my pride and joy. You grew into a big brother, with a love for your Jax like no other. My greatest happiness was watching you boys play in the sandbox or swimming pool in the backyard of the school-house, or on the giant snow piles Grandpa and Ewalt made you. I remember driving in the minivan and turning around to see you both sleeping and holding hands. You were each others best friends and my heart was full.

As the years passed, the sleeping while hand holding did too, but in its place, a deep love and respect for each other. Your adventures changed, but the love, joy, and the spark did not. Everything you did, you did with all your heart.

As you continued to grow you became a peace maker, a planner, and a leader with a joyful spirit that made others want to follow. Yet all the while still protecting and caring for your baby brother. When Jaxon was diagnosed with celiac disease, you were his keeper, making sure no one used his peanut butter, jam, or toaster.

Colby, you were my sunshine and my joy. And now when I go to town, people will quietly think to themselves, “There’s THAT poor lady who lost her son on his birthday”.

But Colby, what they won’t realize is I certainly am THAT LADY, THAT LADY who held the most wonderful and perfect boy in her arms for 18 years; and I will be THAT LADY who holds you in my heart until the day I die.

I am THAT LADY, blessed among all women.

Till I see you again, my sweet, my love, my Valentine.

Mamma.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

From Colby’s younger brother……….

Jaxon’s Tribute to his Big Brother ❤️

I don’t need to stand up here and tell you what an amazing person my brother was. Each of you are here today because you knew Colby, that means you knew exactly how much joy he brought to a conversation. And if you didn’t know him, I couldn’t put into words what an exceptional person Colby was. When I was looking through photos to make the video tribute to Colby, i was worried that, all the memories and feelings that were tied to them would be too much for me. I thought I would break down and just cry. But, as I started going through them, I realized it wasn’t as sad as I had imagined. In fact, I found myself laughing, and sharing memories with all the people who were around me. Looking at old photos and videos of Colby, has brought me the only true feeling of fulfilling, unashamed joy, that I have experienced in the darkest days of my life.
These images hold only a small fraction of the true happiness that I felt during that time. But somehow, even the mere reflection of those times were enough to eclipse this darkness that I have never felt the likes of before. This is just a testament to the way adventure and happiness would follow Colby. Virtually every Photo I have of him is tied to some adventure I had with him. Lots of which were excursions that Colby brought the Three of us on with him. And I will forever hold these camping trips and expeditions in my heart.
But the most precious of these memories, are the ones that I will selfishly have all to myself. The ones that are exclusive to me, and me alone. The kind of memories that only his brother could cherish. Every snow fort we built, and how he would always make sure I was not only included, But ranked higher than his older friends, in the snow fort hierarchy. Every mission that we went on to save our stuffed animals from whatever peril we imagined them to be in. Every ride we took together; whether it be in our imaginary car, or on the little dirt bike, or in his car. Every song we listened to together, every card trick that I would try to fail on him. Every superhero movie trailer that I would force him to watch. Even the days that I was bored and I would come into your room and just sit, because your presence seemed to shun all boredom. And the videos. The last year or so of your life we made so many videos. These silly “how to” videos that we would post on instagram, mean more to me than anything else on this planet. From filming a video about snowboarding in mid July, to editing one about surviving in the wild as a vegetarian, creating these videos was the highlight of my week. The activity I loved to do most in the world.
I was not ready for him to leave, I am not ready to face the world without my brother. And I will never share the same bond and love with anyone else. These menial, everyday things we did, are the things that I will miss most in life. But the memories are also the only things that will get me through these miserable times, and how I Know that you are simply resting, and won’t have to deal with any of the pain and suffering this world brings. You will wake up and see your Lord and saviour. I will see you again on that day when Jesus comes, and on that day I will finally be whole again.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

From  Donna Sackett, one of his grandmothers. This picture shows Colby’s resting place
untitled

I love history. Not just the facts, but the stories behind the facts. The people. The stories of the people make up history—not just the famous (and infamous)—all of our stories make up our history.

I love walking old cemeteries, looking at ancient, and not so ancient, tombstones; wondering about the stories behind the facts. Sometimes the tombstones leave a clue: “Beloved Wife,” “Our Darling Boy”—Scott broke his leg on that one when he was two. I’ve heard it described as so many stories in the “dash”, that little line between the date of birth and date of death. So much history in the dash.

I stood at my grandmother’s grave in a small country cemetery and looked across the rolling hills. I could see the green roof of my grandparents’ farmhouse. Five generations of my family are buried there. The dashes include a Civil War veteran, a camp cook who adored children, a high school football star. The farmhouse is gone now, and that little cemetery is surrounded by the neighborhoods of southeast Arlington, Texas.

Next to the Beiseker-Levelland Seventh-day Adventist Church in Alberta is a small country cemetery. Many of Kerry’s ancestors are buried there. So is Sam McGee (Google “The Cremation of Sam McGee” sometime). I have walked that cemetery many times in the past 20 years looking at the names—the same last names as friends from Union College who were from North Dakota. I learned from Kerry’s dad many of their stories included escaping religious persecution in Europe and starting over again in North America. Some settled in North Dakota, while other family members travelled on to Alberta. Never, ever, ever, ever did I think I would be walking that cemetery to visit the grave of my grandson. So many stories in the dash that is eighteen years long. So much life. So much joy.

Those dashes—some are short; some are long. My twin sisters’ dash in the Texas cemetery spans only two days. Kerry’s grandma’s dash in Alberta spans ninety-nine years. Every dash is a story. Every dash is important. It’s important for us still here. Our stories are part of history, too. And oh, how I long for the day when the dashes have no end, but continue on for eternity.

Colby’s Memorial

Posted in Death, emotions, Family, Fathers, Grief, Mental Health, Mothers, Parent love | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My Two Cents About Jussie Smollet

Jussie Smollet, an actor on the TV show Empire, evidently pulled off two hoaxes recently, according to the Chicago police and the FBI. His first was when he sent himself a hate letter with some white power in it. The FBI has determined that he  sent it to himself. His second was a faked mugging.

When he did not get the response he wanted from the hate letter, after reporting it,  he then allegedly staged his second hoax, a mugging. Jussie reported that he was assaulted by two white men who doused him with bleach, and put a noose around his neck.  He said during the attack they shouted, “This is mega country”,  or something to that effect. He said that they were also wearing red MAGA hats. His story changed some as reports of what happened later were different. One version was that he went to the hospital, another was that he went home. Both versions still had him wearing the noose around his neck.

After many hours of investigation the Chicago Police read a full account of what they say happened. This was after Jussie was charged for a crime. The police report said that two Nigerian men, who Jussie knew, helped carry out this planned hoax, after receiving a check from him for $3500.00, with a promise of $500.00 more. Jussie also gave the men $100.00 dollars in cash,  to purchase a red hat, rope, ski masks, and gasoline, which was the original plan before bleach was used. The police have a video of the men making the purchases mentioned, minus the gasoline and bleach.

Here are some thoughts about the story that is still unfolding:

I think the two hoaxes we have seen have a purpose that some are missing. I think the goal was a PR ploy to try to label Trump supporters as homophobic and racist. We have a black, gay man and a noose. Hummm.

There are tons of examples of nut cases grabbing MAGA hats off of innocent people, and throwing tantrums and punches . I have seen no examples or reports of  MAGA hat wearers violently acting out against people who don’t support Make America Great Again supporters. I think Jussie is one of the nuts.

I see Soros and Obama’s fingerprints all over this. Might I add that Senators Harris and Booker had a bill in the works addressing nooses around this time.

Another oddity is that Jussie withheld his cell phone for a time, when the police requested it as evidence. When he did hand it over it had been altered. He had removed texts. A leaker reported that texts from both Harris and Booker were on his phone before and after the hoax. He was also in pictures at a Harris event. Who knows if the leaker is correct. Time will tell.

Sheriff David Clarke wrote an opinion piece stating that  he thought this recent hoax had nothing to do with the Empire salary Smollett was getting. That narrative  has been thrown out as the reason for the second hoax. Clarke nailed it when he said this was staged to stir the pot of hate.

I think Jussie was hand-picked to pull this hoax off, because he is black, gay, and part of a mostly black TV show named Empire that gives him some recognition. He also has been very vocal against Trump. He mentioned that fact in his ridiculous interview on Good Morning America.

His actions have been nothing more than race baiting and worse. I hope the Black, and LGBTQ communities are smarter than he gives them credit for being.

He has been found out and is back peddling like crazy. He now claims he has an untreated drug problem. Is he hoping that will help get him a lighter sentence? I sure hope not. He purposefully created two hate crimes, if all the evidence proves to be true.

It is going to be impossible to bury the hoaxes, because of the publicity.  And trying to blame Trump is laughable. And will the ones who convinced him to try to pull these actions off remain in his corner? I think not. I see him being run over by a fleet of buses.

The hoaxes  involve filing a false police report, altering evidence,  sending a hate letter through the mail, and lying to the FBI. I see a couple of Federal crimes here.

I hope, if convicted, he has to pay for every second of the investigation. That expense, coupled with attorney fees, and the possibility of losing his acting job, should get his attention. Maybe he will realize that it is not profitable to act out on his hateful feelings, or to be someones pawn.

I think it would be fitting if  a class action suit pops up by  MAGA supporters, who have been wrongly blamed in this hoax. Any monies gotten could be given to the Trump re-election campaign. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? Of course that will never happen. And if it did Jussie would already be flat broke unless he could muster up a Go Fund Me movement.

My hat is off to the ones who uncovered these two hoaxes, and showed the left that they cannot manufacture hate and blame conservatives.

The far left is so consumed with hate that they have lost the ability to do any critical thinking, and that is their Achilles heel.

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A Tribute To A Son

A mom  buried her first-born son a few days after Valentine’s Day this year.

He was born, and died, eighteen years apart, on this day that represents Love.  The son was returning home from boarding school to celebrate his special day along with his mom’s birthday, that was a day or two later.  The crash he was in took both drives lives .

His family and community are devastated beyond belief. The victim was a grandson of a special cousin of mine. Colby left behind a younger brother, parents, a huge extended family, and a multitude of friends, whose lives he impacted. All are dealing with an emptyness in their hearts. Hopefully remembering his eighteen years will bring them all comfort after they have delt with their grief.

The following was read at his memorial and needs to be preserved as a lasting tribute to him from a loving mother.

All deaths cause a ripple effect. His will cause hundreds………………………………………………………………………………………..

ripple effect

A Tribute to My First Born❤️

To My Sweet Boy,

Colby, you were the baby I longed for, you were perfect in every way. Your big blue eyes, your soft skin, and your snuggly ways. I believe I held you for the entire first year of your life. You were my pride and joy. You grew into a big brother, with a love for your Jax like no other. My greatest happiness was watching you boys play in the sandbox or swimming pool in the backyard of the school-house, or on the giant snow piles Grandpa and Ewalt made you. I remember driving in the minivan and turning around to see you both sleeping and holding hands. You were each others best friends and my heart was full.

As the years passed, the sleeping while hand holding did too, but in its place, a deep love and respect for each other. Your adventures changed, but the love, joy, and the spark did not. Everything you did, you did with all your heart.

As you continued to grow you became a peace maker, a planner, and a leader with a joyful spirit that made others want to follow. Yet all the while still protecting and caring for your baby brother. When Jaxon was diagnosed with celiac disease, you were his keeper, making sure no one used his peanut butter, jam, or toaster.

Colby, you were my sunshine and my joy. And now when I go to town, people will quietly think to themselves, “There’s THAT poor lady who lost her son on his birthday”.

But Colby, what they won’t realize is I certainly am THAT LADY, THAT LADY who held the most wonderful and perfect boy in her arms for 18 years; and I will be THAT LADY who holds you in my heart until the day I die.

I am THAT LADY, blessed among all women.

Till I see you again, my sweet, my love, my Valentine.

Love, Mamma

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Thoughts From A Grieving Grandmother

On Valentine’s day of this year a very special 18-year-old was on his way  home from boarding school. It was his eighteenth birthday. He was ten minutes away from home when he was in a  head on collision, that took his young life. Two cars, two lone drivers, to fatalities. Needless to say, his parents, brother, extended family, school mates and friends are feeling devastated. His grandmother wrote the following words, that I considered so touching, that I wanted to share them with the world. Kerry, who is mentioned, is the young man’s mother. The  author of the thoughts presented here  is my very special first cousin, Donna Sackett.

untitled

I love history. Not just the facts, but the stories behind the facts. The people. The stories of the people make up history—not just the famous (and infamous)—all of our stories make up our history.

I love walking old cemeteries, looking at ancient, and not so ancient, tombstones; wondering about the stories behind the facts. Sometimes the tombstones leave a clue: “Beloved Wife,” “Our Darling Boy”—Scott broke his leg on that one when he was two. I’ve heard it described as so many stories in the “dash”, that little line between the date of birth and date of death. So much history in the dash.

I stood at my grandmother’s grave in a small country cemetery and looked across the rolling hills. I could see the green roof of my grandparents’ farmhouse. Five generations of my family are buried there. The dashes include a Civil War veteran, a camp cook who adored children, a high school football star. The farmhouse is gone now, and that little cemetery is surrounded by the neighborhoods of southeast Arlington, Texas.

Next to the Beiseker-Levelland Seventh-day Adventist Church in Alberta is a small country cemetery. Many of Kerry’s ancestors are buried there. So is Sam McGee (Google “The Cremation of Sam McGee” sometime). I have walked that cemetery many times in the past 20 years looking at the names—the same last names as friends from Union College who were from North Dakota. I learned from Kerry’s dad many of their stories included escaping religious persecution in Europe and starting over again in North America. Some settled in North Dakota, while other family members travelled on to Alberta. Never, ever, ever, ever did I think I would be walking that cemetery to visit the grave of my grandson. So many stories in the dash that is eighteen years long. So much life. So much joy.

Those dashes—some are short; some are long. My twin sisters’ dash in the Texas cemetery spans only two days. Kerry’s grandma’s dash in Alberta spans ninety-nine years. Every dash is a story. Every dash is important. It’s important for us still here. Our stories are part of history, too. And oh, how I long for the day when the dashes have no end, but continue on for eternity.

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What Has Turned Cinderella & Prince Charming into Snowflakes? Part 2, Society and the Education System

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What Has Turned Cinderella & Prince Charming into Snowflakes? Part 1, Parenting & Family

via What Has Turned Cinderella & Prince Charming into Snowflakes? Part 1, Parenting & Family

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