Christmas in July

 The irony of our life and times. Photo stage right that is your regular left is a picture captured at Christmas time 2011; (and) I thought I was just taking a picture of my brother Prince for the sake of just snapping a picture per the occasion. He said it was his first Christmas tree. I am so glad that I went over there that night. So glad now in looking back that I made the effort.  I could not have gone over there had the Lord not placed it in my heart. The children were there too. I even remember buying the tree it was on mark down clearance like a Charlie Brown Tree. I said I got to get it for my brother and I have just enough; the children and I hooked it up for him. I had no idea that I was archiving the life and times of his last year alive. My God, how mysterious how strange is the eye twinkle change.

I am just now coming to terms with the sudden demise of my eldest brother Prince Edward Richardson – motion of discovery somewhere between July 16 and July 17 2012. The Lord saw fit to rescue him for good from all the tormenting spirits that haunted his being day and night. O my God, he is still on my voice mail.  (Rest in peace big bro I know you are with the Father of Lights above I know you are donning a white garment washed in the blood of the Lamb and that you are no longer suffering; that your name is not even Prince any more your earthly name but you have a new name now too so brand new that only you and the Father knows it.  That you are fully redeemed. I know you are with the Lord Himself; that he received you into his sheep fold with loving arms brimming with tender mercies.) Amen.  (I will be sure to tag all of that spiritual knowledge so the reader of this blog page can know I didn’t make any of that up.)

I began to tell this story a year ago. And I see now God is requiring it of me for He has made me a witness to these things now matured. My brother suffered from the horrible dreaded disease of bi-polar schitzophenia. I mean, I know some of us have a little bit of madness looming inside of us i.e that be the whole world but my brother he was extraordinarily special. So special that his life could never be in vain though that was one of his last sentiments to me. (Be patient and I will explain if you have a bout a week to follow up in consistency for it is always a journey.)

(My God this is painful and I didn’t even know that was on the tip of my heart’s tongue. I see now that this thing has only just begun) The suffering he endured in this lifetime has to be for a higher purpose for there is no glory in becoming a statistic to the mental health community.

As I already let on, I began this blog last year albeit with his permission i e. the archive blog “my brother gave me permission to say this much.” Created him a Facebook page too. But then I stopped. Due to an unthankful spirit and simply not understanding what was the Lord doing to me and in my life which lead to stagnation and even weariness. Thought others were mocking me, laughing at me, talking about me behind my back. “O my goodness what is she doing now?  “Girl, did you see that post?”


“She is a distraction.”

Now I see it was all the enemy doing that to me a terror reign laying siege in my own mind which is where the battle ground truly is. Which was pretty true and even cruel – the judgments I got just for entertaining such a topic and through my own bloodline, mind you which made it twice as risky. Hey what would people say? She must be loony too. People can be so cruel to those who suffer from mental illnesses. I believe the Lord called them palsies.  No one commented they shied away from me altogether. So I was right the whole world seems prejudices when it comes to such commentary total rejection city which I discovered only exasperates such a condition. The stigmatism behind the reproach of a condition that whom suffer are not even responsible for. It is almost always something genetic related in the blood line.

Now, looking back,  I have records of that too but my thing is why would I care? And why did I care…then? Candidly, deep down,  I was just as prejudiced and saddened. But then there was a part of me that reveled in being so close to my brother the stares and our outings sometimes I felt like just saying,  “What the hell is every one looking at? You never seen a paranoid schitzophrenic before with his sister out at the park enjoying a walk like normal people? Bloody niaves!”  

That was one of the things we would do in the beginning. In the beginning, after he came to live with us, I would take him out to the park real early in the morning when the sun was just rising before it got too hot right after I would drop the children off to the Freedom Camp across from the Museum. This park called Schiller Park in German Village; our childhood playground. Any how, we would have Bible Study there on a park bench in the shade. He said he really appreciated that. I would walk him though the scriptures and he would find comfort and he would be okay for the day. This was truly a special grace given to me by the Lord himself whom is the God of all grace. Amen. I thank God for this experience because it is as hyssop to my soul. A purging of sorts.  A lesson in proverbial wisdom.

I see now how much courage it takes to go forward and well at the time… I had no understanding as to why the Lord was allowing all of these.  Dare, I call them diverse temptations which I am supposed to consider them all joy, right?  According to the Bible I am. So I should have known then that it was just for a season. But how can we know other than we just trust and obey which is an act of God in itself.   Of course, now I see God was absolutely guiding my course. He knew… he knew being our Maker how I would respond; that I would take the pictures and write the journals -( which I am going to share with you because they are not mine, they are the Lord’s) Moreover, because plugged into the matrix or not, that is what he designed me to do; to record.  Unfortunately though at the time it was happening I had no understanding I was only being lead by His Holy Spirit of His love which takes all of the above.

Connected by blood; us being sister and brother there was already an earthly bond – a blood covenant of family but hey don’t look at me like I could not have know this until now. However at the time because of bouts of discouragement because I had no understanding of what the Spirit has just now revealed to me in retrospection, I fell off dramatically not understanding the fullness of what God has called me into. I was merely jesting I suppose not fully committed upset and candidly speaking burnt the heck out doing things in my own strength. The irony of everything is that I had thought time and time again about beginning my brother’s blog back but I was stumped as to what to say I was thinking,

“Oh yeah, let us do an update as to where his life is now vs how it was when the Lord let our paths cross again for the first time in 20 years. Now I know why I was having that thought. I am learning a crash course in the wisdom and sovereignty of God.

The awesome thing is I am glad so very glad that, well this statement I am going to say in the most down- to- earth, meek-like and honest way possible and that is somehow God preserved my heart just right so I could obey his voice and go down that street one day and see about my brother. It is not as if I have any righteousness of my own. None of us do. It is the sure evident mercies of God that kept me in my heart so to God be all the glory. It is going to be with great pleasure and respect – the re-launching of this blog –

the life and times of a paranoid schitzophrenic – Prince Edward Richardson. Hey watch it! That’s my brother we  are talking about so tread lightly for it written a bruised a reed he will no wise crush.

Here’s to the beginning of the end of a life worthy of commemoration for greater purposes surely – a personal rewind journey.

In Honor of my eldest brother Prince Edward Richardson R.I.P. June 13, 1963 – July 16 2012. Me and the children brought him beef fried rice, (via special request) a twelve pack of Pepsi from, vanilla cup cakes with blue icing and strawberry ice cream for his last earthly birthday.


Baby Sis Jessica Mae

July 24, 2012@8:24 a.m.


My brother gave me permission to say this much

Top Billing

The headline right below the first two emboldened bullletins yet it was all still front page news which emphasizes it’s importance.

/Mentally ill suffer once states cut budgets/

My immediate thoughts provoked now engaged this seed …

This is crazy…

 though I should be more in control not in fear even fret because fear hath torment and fretting only leads to evil thus saith the Word of the Lord.

    But this plague – this evil demonic legion of the devil. Mental illness my brother has it in the form of schitzophrenia. There! I said it!  So it is out in the open. and my brother gave me permission to say this much. It has only been exactly one month and two d days now since the Lord rejoined our paths after 20 years of displacement within our society. We actually literally prayed him up, my father and I.  I tell you the truth and my sister – God bless her. Thusly He gave her an unction to go seek him out via the social service route. Unfortunately however got very little cooperation because the crossed-up bureacracy of the highly confusing, over-protective hippa laws. But she did have the burden at least that brought the issue to the surface asking us back in the summer time when the weather was hot, “Has anyone seen ———,——–?”


   I found my eldest brother living in a single room two story walk up living over a pawn shop. It’s history; it’s owners their relationship  wait for the unabridged accounting.   However what is of the upmost dire urgency is how my brother – the classic basket case tale blowing Mickey Rooney’s adaptation of what it is for a mentally ill citizen to abide in a somewhat functionally sane society out the water.  Seriously speaking, as his story goes – my brother suffered the tragic fortune of being born to a mentally unbalanced woman, our our biological mother. To wit’ adding salt to divine selection was selected by the gods to suffer being hit by a car as a child which only exasperated the condition; his life after the fact nothing short of  a terroristic circus reign of checkered events ensued because of the now split state of confusion he dwelled in;  less than half a life suseptible; open prey for any strange entities/spirits to come in and inhabit his being.

The damage done unto his brain diagnosed irreversible. It is surely a miracle that he has survived  and the fact that he has is evidence  of the scripture how the Lord will encamp his angels about the sick and feeble minded. I know I read this somewhere in the passages of the pages of the Holy Bible one day in my prayer closet.

  But now it is a new day. Why did the Lord lead me to that place that day to ask for  my long-lost brother? 

It has to be for such a time as this. Surely this is the purpose  – because the Lord needs someone to stand in the gap; to work justice; to plea the cause of the so-called “double – minded” mentally ungrounded. Legitimately insane citizens through no fault of their own. They suffer with this condition whether via flawed genetics or by unforseen irresponsible acts of wreckless driving. My father recalls the very day that it happened for the first time; his eldest son being hit by a car. The second he never talked about it.   I do however remember as a child one day my father came to pick me up from my nursery school; we went to visit him the ICU (intensive care unit at Children’s Hospital. They wouldn’t let me on the ward in the room because of my age. So remember waiting in another room until my father came back to get me. The most tragic circumstance that could have been prevented if my brother had tight fitting brakes on his child-hood three speed bike. The man  -my dad said he wasn’t the least bit empathetic to what he had just done running over his eldest son with his car like a load gun.

    Beginning right here right now while we have an opportunity to plea for their cause.  Just now coming out of the dark – 

Re: I recall just recently a public service announcement that is gaining momentum through the urban market and over the airwaves concerning the secret plight of the mentally ill.

 “The healing is in me and the healing is in you.”

Hailed the voice-over talent but then no real authentic victim speaks up about how their quality of life is other than another voice over talent reading a script talking about it “…the more I talked about it…the more I felt it coming off.”

    My question is how do you talk schtizophrenia into coming off or out of the mind of a person who has suffered an atrocious less than righteous existence of rejection because of the luck of the draw / twist of fate that determined their life’s destiny  — not in their favor obviously?

     Our entire household has been afflicted greatly because of the stigmatism and the reproach this spiriutally psychological infirmity/ spiritual beast of burden for which there are very few labourers or rather advocates for. On that note count me in.  I just found my brother after twenty years of dislocation and he was well enough to live on his own and not in some ill-faded demonic sterile institution abandoned and forsaken staring at even drearier grey and pale egg- yellow yoke walls. 

Back to one:  I just discovered my eldest brother after twenty years of displacement falling through the cracks of society way below the radar.  He lives in a two story walk up single room above a pawn shop. The part I didn’t say that I am saying now is that I am eternally grateful that when I did find him at least he knew who I was; that he had not forgotten my face. Admittedly now I see how important his medication is and the other various resources that come with treating this …horrible condition, disorder of the mind.  So I’m raising my voice in saying so.

     Dear Your Highness Governor:

     For the love of God and humanity I pray thee and the powers that be above.  Consider this plight and tread softly. Do not pull the plug on the money and programs that is needed to help many Central Ohio citizens the same as my brother who are able to live at least functional lives free in our society without harm to their selves or any one else with the present help provided via various government assisted programs. You have no idea how much they need the help. You have no idea how much these programs are a real help to many households suffering this horrible plight; this dreadful affliction.

      I now plea mercy in lieu of judgment in respect to their quality of life and the qualtiy of those that live within society that need them to be free for various reprecussion in the long run that can and ultimately shall arise new and greater issues of life from counting them out and casting them away off setting another category and docket effecting multiple other streams of revenues that are already accounted for relative to how they are abiding now presently in our society. All things considered really. 

Earnestly Interceding,

Baby sister

Spontaneous Volunteer/ Now advocating for the Mentally Ill ————–

Disclamier: The contents of this letter (names, locations, and goverment officials have been edited for privacy purposes.)

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