She was beautiful—-the laughter, the life, the joy of her family. You were certain, when you saw her, that God never made two people alike. She was unique—carefree and full of mischief, always looking for the next laugh. And her eyes were so blue, they were the color of an ocean you’d vacation near.
When she came down with Covid, no one offered her ivermectin, or Hydroxycholoroquine. Her government didn’t come to her aid, didn’t let her know that they valued her life. Instead, they plotted to kill her, withheld early treatment, let her rot alone for nearly three weeks in a hospital bed. Her family never saw her again after bringing her there.
They haven’t just killed her, they’ve killed a family, They’ve altered the life of three generations, declared war on the institution of family and the sanctity of life. And although I’ve been awake since 1997, today is the day that I paint my face,
I will go door to door, from city to city, letting everyone know that they don’t have to die from Covid. There are treatments, and while hard to find, it is possible to save yourself, your family member, your neighbor. It is possible to run from the butchers. You just need to understand how.
God bless you Aunt Jo. Your death will not be in vain.
I am sorry for your loss.