Death by suicide

The Judds have said their mother committed suicide by handgun. 

She was about to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. 

She had special people coming over and she asked her daughter to come into the house. 

And yet, she was found by Ashley after a friend stopped by to visit, upstairs with a gunshot to her head.

Death by suicide.

It is hard to believe she would do such a thing and with people in the house.

Suicide is always seen as a solitary thing. 

Something one does when alone and not with others around.

The Manhunt for the Alabama jailor and her escape ended in death by suicide as well.

She allowed herself to fall in love with a man charged with murder.

She gave up everything to be with him.

Sold her home, turned in her retirement papers.

They made it out of Alabama. And Tennessee only to land in Indiana.

Why did they stay?

They kept on moving the first few days, changing cars and keeping out of sight.

And then they found a hotel room for six days.

The manager says he did not rent to them, someone else must have done it.

Why did they go to the car wash?

Why did he let himself be photographed?

He must have known where the cameras where located, he had been in prison.

And then they gave chase in a car, the authorities as they were given away.

She somehow hit the 911 emergency button or was it him?

They can hear them arguing on the phone.

She wants to flee, to get out and keep on going.

Even on foot.

They crashed and as they pulled him out, all 6 foot 9 inches, he says his wife has a gun.

They found her in the car with a gun shoot to her head.

Self-inflicted, and she died at the hospital.

Did she give up her dream?

Or did he want his freedom, even if it was back in prison.

Eleven days on the run with the wrong woman can get tiresome.

He called her his wife, when did they get married?

Was it her or someone else her shot? her?

One does not know does one?

My mother was always talking about suicide.

I found her more than once in a state of almost death.

Once I walked in to find blood on her pillow.

A gun was on the side of the bed.

My gun from my National park days, they do issue them.

It was supposed to be in a safe.

But she can crack any safe.

Really, she can.

My fathers guns where always going missing.

As were my grandfathers.

Both had been in wars and issued them with training.

I called the 911 system, and was told I was on my own.

I had to back the car up to the door to get her into the car.

And then drive her to the hospital.

She had moved her head at the last moment, just in time.

She survived the gun shot to the head.

Was it self inflicted?

She never tells the truth about anything at all.

The outdoor camera showed little mis Tara entering the room and leaving quickly.

Tara was noted for many things, including attempting to kill many of us.

I watched her choke the life out of more than one little boy.

And hold the smaller head under the water.

Have you ever had your head held under the water?

I have.

I am sure it was not self-inflicted.

But she always protected Tara or anyone else who tried to kill her.

Was it fear?

Or conceit?

She always thought she was invincible.

I found her in the closet once with a very frightened boy.

Every boy wants to look at his fathers gun.

Both my father and grandfather  had guns issued to them.

They were supposed to be in lock boxes.

There isn't anything my mother can't unlock.

Laying there in her own blood with a boy

loosing it, saying over and over again.

"Sorry" and "it wasn't me".

She said she believed him.

She put him up for adoption.

She only allowed him home when she felt like it.

Tara was in the neighborhood that day as well.

So was our Jimmy and Candace.

Both killers, both convicted and committed.

But never incarcerated for very long.

My mother won every argument.

Not because she was right.

Because she insisted she had won.

And she always got even.

The problem is that she was not well.

Others had taken her hostage as a child.

She never could tell her family what they did.

She never trusted her family.

She acted one way and did things another way.

I never trusted her at any time.

All those children that did not belong.

They were all trained to kill.

First by biting and scratching.

Then by injections so they would not be told upon.

And then there were the poisonous spiders.

All they had to do was crawl in and open the jar.

Tarantula's were hand carried.

And they came in twos.

While one was being killed the other was stalking you.

Some took to knives as well as other means to get their way.

Everyone of them, from sweet Amy Adams, Julia Stiles to aggressive Alcia Vikander, and Gail Gadot.

Not one of them  mine.

I cant have children.

None them trained by my mother.

She was only allowed to play with them.

She had brain tumors and injections into her brain by Jimmy and Candance.

Just helping her, they said.

Helping her on her way.

Cancer spread throughout her brain.

She kept on going just like the Durasell battery.

Right to the end, lying there dead to the world.

I called 911 and they told me take a shower.

I did because I had been lying on my bed a few days and smelled.

But then the alarms and lights came while I was under water.

I was quick but not quick enough.

I flew out of the bathroom, now with a broken door.

To find her gone.

And no one knew where she had gone.

Not the hospital across the street, 

Nor the police station downtown.

Nor anyone in the neighborhood.

I had no purse, no keys, no money.

I sat on the porch and waited three days.

Before she walked up the drive and refused to tell me where she had been.

I tell you she was dead, no pulse, white as a sheet and stretched out as if rigormortes had set in. 

Meanwhile, I was in the other room in a deep drugged sleep.