Tuesday, November 7th, 2006
I had a terrifying awakening in the wee hours of a chilling mid December morning. A few restless hours later; two police officers abruptly awaken my soundly sleeping eight year old son from his bed and once upon a beautful life.
The previous evening, after an initial suprise court order and five hours of mind boggling merciless private interogation ( 1 1/2 hours of which was in a locked room with two unfriendly ministry workers ) at Vancouver Childrens Hospital, Kaelin was released into my immediate care. That early warning sign of a bittersweet eve, one innocent boy and his beyond apprehensive Mother skipped, played and laughed, before being safely escorted home by my concerned webmaster. Later that night, ever healthy Kaelin had a full blown fever and I was utterly horrified to even think of the dark possibilities that may inevitably lay ahead.
"Mommy, I'm so hot. I'm so hot" was all my hurting heart could weakly utter, as I calmly held a cold face cloth to his precious little face. As the most trusting eyes looked up at me, I saw into the future ... We were walking side by side, along the sidewalk, in front of the yellow heritage house on West 14th we were temporarily sub-letting, for another month, until our long awaited reward of a donated holiday in Costa Rica. All of a sudden I am fully aware of a long, dark shotgun slowly raising up and unmistakedly pointed our way. The dark and heavy barrel was pointed directly at me. I took a deep breath ... At the last moment, the weapon was deftly moved and aimed at my son. The trigger was pulled ...
Finally, one very traumatized child fell asleep in his Mother's loving arms. I'd already seen a newer, healthier image of Kaelin in my faithful mind's eye ... a closer grown up vision of my boy, without his devoted Mother to tend to him. And he was in one whole piece. I knew he was somehow going to remain safe, no matter what ... Now I could move downstairs to begin a daunting process of praying, chanting, and urgently making telephone calls to ask for help.
I was aware my vision meant I was the real target. In order for me to be out of commisssion, my child had to be 'taken down'. I never saw blood. Going even deeper, I chose to see the unerving symbolism. Afaterall, the safest way out is within. Yet, knowing there was even more to the picture, I could not sleep. Soon after, our locked front door was almost kicked down by a small army of paid government accomplices sent by the ministry to finish a job that had already been ruthlessly initiated close to nine years prior.
Upon our last morning together, Kaelin's rightful fear had caused him to wisely remove the antique crystal doorknob, as he had religiously been doing since seeing the same couple of ominous clouds, called social workers, camped out, for days, in front of our most recent dwelling. This temporary 'resting spot' - the perfect place for a 'take' - with no security gaurds, video surveilance cameras ( which was before always the case )or witness'. One more reign of terror over. Another to begin ...