Left for Dead-with Scars to Prove It- Edmonds Police Department in Washington questioned the Young White Male who did it but Allowed Him to Walk Away-Love

It is without doubt that we wake and go on our way with death every day. I have in a very  unusual way learned to listen to my guts and not be at odds with them. That hit-and-run automobile accident could perhaps have been avoided had I obliged.

And I know at present that certain things do in fact matter more than do others. Of course, it was the end of the month, and needed money, money to pay my rent. But really was that something to lose my life for? If someone asked me that same question today, I wouldn’t hesitate to say ….no…

I have become fully aware that being a mother to my children does matter more than making a penny or two. I have learned the hard way to trust my guts , and believe strongly that my faith in God saved my dear life.

At present time I question every decision I choose to make, every step I choose to take…to make sure I’m taking the right step in the right direction. And do realize certain things I will never understand no matter how hard I find it necessary to try…I know for sure that some things aren’t for me to know, let alone understand, but the good Lord’s alone.

Seeing my boys, my children and grandchildren grow up to be productive individuals in today’s society is certainly worth more than money. Growing up without parents is with its own flows. Life as an orphan is a shallow road of opportunity few have made it through.

This narrative will, as is expected, address itself to individuals who read it in different ways, and that’s only human. Our brains as humans receive information differently, analyse it differently.

My near-failure was an error of the unintentional consequence many did not survive, had no chance to correct. Which has appeared to me to be an unfamiliar favor many did not have a probability this world affords? If I had to do it over again, I would come toward it with a rare caution.

If I offered (sold) to the hungry reader a more interesting publication than the one readily accessible that’s full of rubbish, and he, instead of enhancing his graver dissecting a portion on it now, and then, reading more of it when his mind orders such relaxation, foolishly overdoses himself with even more chapters of the volume in a single sitting, he would have deserved to be nauseated, in that he would have nobody to blame but himself.

There can be nothing more distrustful in writing articles full of nonsense than there would be in operating a candy-store without sweets in it, it depends wholly on individual customers to harm themselves with either – or will extract from the comfort which they have been afforded if they use their feasibility wisely…

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