Freya Sweetman

Gerhardt Morrison My beautiful little girl. You would have turned 20 years old today. Twenty years has flown bye so fast, so much has transpired within that blink of an eye. My thoughts are always drawn to the first time I ever laid eyes on you, you were so small and so afraid, you would shudder at so much as a light being turned on. I wanted to scoop you up in my arms and protect you from what it was that disturbed you yet I could not save you from your mother. "Mother" is a joke, she could not look after herself let alone another human being. She'd gladly jump through hoops to satisfy her junkie mates but when it came to your safety she totally, utterly, threw caution to the wind and later bore the fruits of her type of shallow vileness. I miss you so much, I miss your smile, your laughter, your soft little hands and, big bright blue eyes. Everyone who met you fell in love with you, everyone I knew always asked after you, they'd never met you but respectfully made it clear they needed to be seen and heard to be asking about you. You had such an effect on people. Last year, this time, I was so depressed thinking about you and the pain your mother put you through that I went out and drank all afternoon, I was completely smashed around 9.00pm after drinking pots of beer then German beer in huge steins. I was so paralytic that I had to be removed via an ambulance. If I could have carried your pain I would have without question. Please know that I love you and think of you fondly and very often. You would have been a great daughter, a best friend and would have loved to have seen my family here. Take care wherever you are, I'll be with you soon, a few hail Mary's and I should be right. I love you little princess. Happy 20th!

Gerhardt Morrison Dearest Freya. When you were born your mother really wanted nothing to do with you, she saw you in your serious condition as abhorrent. Yet your issues were because of her. Heroin, pills and enough Endone to kill an Elephant all combined to destroy you. Lyn did not care. She never has cared. You were of her making. I cannot forgive nor forget the pain she inflicted upon you. In lieu of the authorities acting to protect you they acted in concert with Lyn to further your situation and make Lyn the victim and you an afterthought. Everything I've ever known Lyn to be was made more evident when she refused to tell me of your death/funeral. Two years after the fact I am told second hand that you had died...it crushed me. I would have been there for you in lightening speed had I have known, but Lyn wanted it to be her day, Lyn the victim, Lyn the grieving mother, I say Lyn and all those who mire in her false victim hood should be ashamed. Lyn should be bone dust not Freya. I miss her every day and long to again hear your laughter. You will always and in all ways be my Valkyrie my beautiful Freya. Your Father.

Gerhardt Morrison Another St. Patrick's Day has passed and another birthday without you has hung like a dark cloud, an Albatross I cannot evade. I think of you every day often days on end and nothing breaks that train of thought. There isn't a bottle deep enough for me to drown in though I sometimes try. I love you Freya.

Elvis Morrison As time comes and goes, it makes its presence known to me with your name whispered from its lips. It leaves me with an unenviable chasm where my heart should be. Blackened and yet guarded from the many slings and arrows that no doubt attempt to find their mark but I will not allow it. Am I wrong to harbor no guilt? Your life was removed from my will and presented to your mother ( a term I use loosely) she ruined what you could have been, a brighter than average beacon of utter hope in lieu of a broken soul, a life cut very short due to selfish need, drugs and a will to only care for herself. Each day as I feel the suns rays upon my face I think of you, your laughter, your cheeky grin yet I am overwhelmed by the enormity of your pain and suffering brought on by your mother. One day I will make her say your name through gritted bloodied teeth and for me that will not be enough, nothing can sate your loss...nothing! I love you Freya today and every day forward of this.

Elvis Morrison Many years ago I arrived at the realization your mother was not only devoid of actual love but is a deluded habitual junkie unable to curb her inclination to ridicule others for their failures but fails to recognize her own. Glenn Pethrick, Mellissa (Mel) Flannery & Lynwen Lewis the 3 amigos of heroin. Melissa would hide heroin in her infant child's clothing to secretly give to Glenn on a jail visit. What real mother does that? What real caring mother would risk not just her freedom but the freedom of her child (Cossette.) Lyn was so free with her lips in more ways than one. Your mother has always played both sides of the fence and with you being disabled she came to appreciate just how much sympathy she would receive. She really is not a person who should have been allowed to have a child. She told me frequent and always laughing that Melissa was as ugly as she is because she along with Glenn were "on the knod" behind the wheel of a car which hit a tree propelling Mel through the windshield and into a tree. I have to add I found it funny myself as I have zero remorse for scum. Lyn told me Mel had numerous pictures of herself around her apartment, numerous photo albums with her on the coffee table always open to pics of her prior to the accident. What a loser! Glenn too overdosed within the grounds of Fulham prison in the protection yard due to the heroin brought in by Mel. These people have children, I wonder if they know, perhaps they should talk to aunty Lyn? These people have no honour, no boundries when it comes to loyalty. Lyn herself told me numerous times how she would have to "left hand drop" someone if she was to be strip searched. It amazes me that behind the smiles and pleasantries, the placation of junkie life they are all talking and stabbing each other in the back. Ha, that Mel has a face like a brikies trowel.

Elvis Morrison This useless waste of a so-called human was what starved you of your beauty and life, she chose heroin, pills and selfish disregard for your safety. As a direct result of her actions you were born dead...yet brought back to life like some horrible laboratory experiment. If there is an afterlife I will seek you out and you will forever be bye my side, the side of my family. Should I cross paths with the abomination above well I guess anyone who knows me would not require a crystal ball to see too far into the black to realize that outcome. I love you Freya.

Elvis Morrison I feel as though I am bursting at the sides with things to reveal. You know I was foolish to trust you, I knew what you were doing, I was informed as we went along. Whilst you tried to pass of the story off that I allowed you to see other guys whilst I were inside the other skins seriously hated you. Patch, Nancy and others all told me about you and Rod Upton's mate. Now you blue about me getting to know other women. We were married 3 years before I found the woman I am with today, 12 years younger than you, not a drug user, not a liar, smarter and every bit my equal...something you would never be...but you have the "letters?" right, who cares. You reap what you sow.

Dane Sweetman

Dane Sweetman

Dane Sweetman

Gerhardt Morrison It's 2021 and I long as ever to again hear your laughter, mumbles and witness your cheeky grin. I knew the inevitable would arrive one day where I would have to ultimately be faced with your leaving this earthly plain, I just despise the fact you are no longer here in mortal form to love and to hold. That thing that called itself a "mother" persists to plague all those who fall into her orbit. You are no more yet she still exists and undoubtedly uses your memory as a tool to exercise influence through sympathy upon anyone foolish enough to give that cretin the time of day. So, 2021, you my dear little girl will always be my Valkyrie, I walked a very measured mile in your life and now do so in grief of your loss. I love you.

Gerhardt Morrison My dearest Freya, You were born at a time best described as cross roads to either Hell or ascension to freedom. I chose freedom. It was not easy to achieve as there were many human obstacles set in my path to vindication of an astronomically long prison sentence. There are two memories that remain frozen in my mind's eye one being when I was informed you were born not without difficulties and two, the two and a half years after you had left this earthly plain that your mother decided to inform me of your passing. You came to me like a bolt from the blue, a savior, my Valkyrie. I love you still and think of you most days when solitude makes itself known to me. I linger on times we spent together, fatherly things like bathing you, feeding you. Such events will remain forever golden in my realm of many considerations.