Gerry's Blog - CURRENT - ALL THREADS MERGED

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I agree. You'd think that thoughts of missing Maddie would be peppered constantly throughout - about how much they miss hearing her sweet voice, her laughter, tucking her into bed at night, reading her stories, seeing her sweet face, her sweet smile etc etc etc......
Does he ever even mention these things? Does he ever write about wondering what's happening to her or being scared to death for her?
Seems like all he does is talk about himself and the remaining family as though they've already stopped looking and have accepted she's not returning and frankly, haven't even stopped to miss her.

Gerry is so self-centered, he's probably incapable of writing about the things you mention.

For comparison, here is a poem by a man who lost a young child:

Little Boy Blue

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,--
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.

Eugene Field


 
Gerry is so self-centered, he's probably incapable of writing about the things you mention.

For comparison, here is a poem by a man who lost a young child:

Snipped for length.

"Lost" like dead, or "lost" like missing?
 
I agree. You'd think that thoughts of missing Maddie would be peppered constantly throughout - about how much they miss hearing her sweet voice, her laughter, tucking her into bed at night, reading her stories, seeing her sweet face, her sweet smile etc etc etc......
Does he ever even mention these things? Does he ever write about wondering what's happening to her or being scared to death for her?
Seems like all he does is talk about himself and the remaining family as though they've already stopped looking and have accepted she's not returning and frankly, haven't even stopped to miss her.

They very well may have been advised not to. Kinda like public appearances, they would typically be told not to show anger, fear, etc. There's a good chance the kidnapper is reading that blog. The McCann's and their advisers must know that.

Or, he could just be being a man. My dear IrishMister, whom I love with all my heart would not be able to write about his feelings, or expose those tender parts to the world.
 
Gerry is so self-centered, he's probably incapable of writing about the things you mention.

For comparison, here is a poem by a man who lost a young child:

Little Boy Blue

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,--
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.

Eugene Field

OMG that's so beautiful and so sad.
 
OMG that poem gave me the shivers, that poor man, such poignant writing! & the poor mother of Anna Waters! I saw a woman on TV crying sorely over a child that had been missing 20 years!
None of that from the bould McCanns, no grief, no love, no sentiment AT ALL just as previous posters have said irrelevant b***s*** about their wonderful daily lives, jogging & ice cream, my 🤬🤬*, who bloody cares & where do they get the energy to jog? When I am traumatised even about something trivial first thing suffers is my energy, jogging would be the last of my notions if my daughter was missing, I wouldn't have the energy to stand up never mind jog!
These are callous individuals who think they are smart enough to pull one over on the whole world. I hope if they are guilty they are caught out & soon!
 
I wonder what wild and crazy red herring of a scheme Gerry and Clarence are working on this week.

Too soon for another snapshot of a Berber child in Morocco.
 
This is another poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson on losing his son to death:

http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/emerson/poems/threnody.html

"Threnody" (A Memorial to the Dead)

...The gracious boy, who did adorn
The world whereinto he was born,
And by his countenance repay
The favor of the loving Day,--
Has disappeared from the Day's eye;
Far and wide she cannot find him;
My hopes pursue, they cannot bind him.
Returned this day, the South-wind searches,
And finds young pines and budding birches;
But finds not the budding man:
Nature, who lost, cannot remake him;
Fate let him fall, Fate can't retake him;
Nature, Fate, men, him seek in vain.

...Now Love and Pride, alas! in vain,
Up and down their glances strain.
The painted sled stands where it stood;
The kennel by the corded wood;
His gathered sticks to stanch the wall
Of the snow-tower, when snow should fall;
The ominous hole he dug in the sand,
And childhood's castles built or planned;
His daily haunts I well discern,--
The poultry-yard, the shed, the barn,--
And every inch of garden ground
Paced by the blessed feet around,
From the roadside to the brook
Whereinto he loved to look.
Step the meek fowls where erst they ranged;
The wintry garden lies unchanged;
The brook into the stream runs on;
But the deep-eyed boy is gone.

On that shaded day,
Dark with more clouds than tempests are,
When thou didst yield thy innocent breath
In birdlike heavings unto death,
Night came, and Nature had not thee;
I said, "We are mates in misery."

...Some went and came about the dead;
And some in books of solace read;
Same to their friends the tidings say;
Some went to write, some went to pray;
One tarried here, there hurried one;
But their heart abode with none.
Covetous death bereaved us all,
To aggrandize one funeral.
The eager fate which carried thee
Took the largest part of me:
For this losing is true dying;
This is lordly man's down-lying,
This his slow but sum reclining,
Star by star his world resigning.

O child of paradise...

:(
 
Thoughtfox, that is beautiful. I have read only a little Emerson but after reading Thoreau last summer I have plans to read more of his work. I've been looking at Emerson quotes lately (time to update my signature.:rolleyes: )

That was so moving.
 
Aw, I'm glad you liked the poem. Emerson is one of my all time favorite writers, because he has such a clear style and every line has meaning. The second of half of that poem is more spiritual, as he tries to find some meaning in what happened to his son. He was moving through what we would call today the stages of grief.

The sense of loss in that poem is really sad, and I got a little teary reading it again.

Missing has hope
Dead is final

But the point for this thread is that after all this time, the grief would be the same to a father, yet Gerry gets more ho-hum and ordinary in his language as it goes along.

I guess you could call it a coping mechanism. Maybe he thinks if he talks about ordinary things, then things will become more ordinary for him. Maybe that works for him, I don't know. But it's not the sort of heartfelt or sentimental stuff you would expect a parent to write.
 
Nice poem, Thoughtfox!

I am wondering just what sort of a doctor gerry was. It would be interesting to hear from some of his patients. I can't see him being the real caring type, more like Barnaby, you are going to die next week! Deal with it!
 
I can't see him being the real caring type, more like Barnaby, you are going to die next week! Deal with it!

It does seem like that but appearances are deceiving and I want to be fair EVEN if I personally think they are involved. People think I am "scary" in the sense of "not-approachable" because of my straightforward personality as well as I do not sugar-coat anything. The truth is that I am a very sensitive person and I do care a lot about others, just because I may LOOK in a certain way, does not really mean much. :blushing:
 
Gerry is a cardiologist although I am not sure he was actually working in that capacity or more as administrator-type position. Kate is a trained anesthesiologist (I really, really hate typing and spelling that) but she was working only part time as temporary GP two days a week (kind of a fill-in, sub type position, from what I gathered.)
 
ThoughtFox, Thank you for the Emerson poem. That's one I missed in American Lit classes. It brings tears to my eyes.

After Clarence reads this thread, do you think Gerry will write some poems about Maddie in his blog? ;)
 
ThoughtFox, Thank you for the Emerson poem. That's one I missed in American Lit classes. It brings tears to my eyes.

After Clarence reads this thread, do you think Gerry will write some poems about Maddie in his blog? ;)

As Kate would say, "Obviously." :rolleyes:
 
It does seem like that but appearances are deceiving and I want to be fair EVEN if I personally think they are involved. People think I am "scary" in the sense of "not-approachable" because of my straightforward personality as well as I do not sugar-coat anything. The truth is that I am a very sensitive person and I do care a lot about others, just because I may LOOK in a certain way, does not really mean much. :blushing:

Fair enough but I wouldn't like him as my doctor & I really cannot see tham ever working as doctors again can you?
 
Fair enough but I wouldn't like him as my doctor & I really cannot see tham ever working as doctors again can you?

Oh yes, I see them working again...not sure though if they would have patients. :doh:
 
Oh yes, I see them working again...not sure though if they would have patients. :doh:
Dunno really if the hospitals would want them if they are not cleared of suspicion. They should certainly undergo psychiatric evaluation before ever being allowed to practice again. I suppose they are in no rush anyway to work again as the fund is paying their living expenses! Why work when you can live for free! :rolleyes:
 
ThoughtFox, Thank you for the Emerson poem. That's one I missed in American Lit classes. It brings tears to my eyes.

After Clarence reads this thread, do you think Gerry will write some poems about Maddie in his blog? ;)
We'll see, won't we. Considering his writing style, he might need some help. :crazy:
 
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