Thursday, April 10, 2014
‘Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick
January 4, 1935 - Aug. 30, 2013
Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick born Jan 4, 1935 and died alone on Sept. 30, 2013. She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible. While she neglected and abused her small children, she refused to allow anyone else to care or show compassion towards them. When they became adults she stalked and tortured anyone they dared to love. Everyone she met, adult or child was tortured by her cruelty and exposure to violence, criminal activity, vulgarity, and hatred of the gentle or kind human spirit.
On behalf of her children whom she so abrasively exposed to her evil and violent life, we celebrate her passing from this earth and hope she lives in the afterlife reliving each gesture of violence, cruelty, and shame that she delivered on her children. Her surviving children will now live the rest of their lives with the peace of knowing their nightmare finally has some form of closure.
Most of us have found peace in helping those who have been exposed to child abuse and hope this message of her final passing can revive our message that abusing children is unforgivable, shameless, and should not be tolerated in a “humane society”. Our greatest wish now, is to stimulate a national movement that mandates a purposeful and dedicated war against child abuse in the United States of America.’
I have sometimes thought about the eulogy one of my siblings may have written about my mother when she passed on as I was not at her funeral, nor did I want to go. Perhaps they didn’t write one, but I’m sure someone stood up and spoke of her virtue. Although my mother wasn’t the criminal,vulgar, dirt-bag that Marianne Johnson-Reddick obviously was, she was still a selfish, narcissistic hag who complained ad nausea about her husband, her children, her deprived circumstances, her ruined opportunities, trampling out joy at every opportunity with her grumblings and ruining happy occasions with her whiny cries of – what about me?
Labels: Honest Obituaries