Time doesn’t always heal hurt but writing a story did help
On April 18, 2015 my heart broke and a part of me died. It was a day I will never forget nor do I want to. It was a day of intense pain, but it was a day of extreme joy and relief.
April 18, 2015 was the day that my daughter, Amy went to be with Jesus. She had fought a very long battle with Multiple Sclerosis. M.S. had taken her from a beautiful, productive, intelligent, caring, funny daughter, mom, wife and friend to someone that most of us no longer recognized. The disease had robbed her of her independence which she always enjoyed.
The story does not begin or end on April 18, 2015 and for that I am very thankful.
When I discovered I was pregnant way back in 1970, I did not know what to do. I was unmarried and lived in Italy. Back then being an unwed mom was not acceptable like it is today. I felt guilt and shame – that is until September 8, 1970 when I looked into the sweet, angelic, perfect face of my Amy.
The only thing that I was sure of was that I loved that 5 pound bundle of joy more than I had ever loved anyone in my life. I did not know how I was going to raise her without a mate but I knew I wanted to try.
Circumstances with my health caused real problems with me taking care of her. I made the decision that she deserved everything that life could give her and that meant someone else would need to raise her. So, my cousin JoAnn and her husband adopted my Amy.
I am so thankful for Jo! Amy grew up in a loving, caring home with her parents and her amazing older brother Johnny.
I wondered if she would ever try to find me and what would happen if she did. That question was answered several years ago. During an Italian Festival here in Italy, she walked up to me and asked if we could talk. Of course I agreed. She let me know that day she was not angry and did not hate me. We began a wonderful relationship that lasted until God allowed her to come “home”.
Before Amy and I were reunited, I wrote a story about what I thought life would be like had I been able to raise her. “Land of Lost Socks” is purely fiction, but was written with a lot of love for my Amy.
I miss her every day – some days are harder than others. On those days I shut my eyes and try to remember her face, her smile and her laugh. Somehow the story I wrote has brought me comfort in the last two years. I hope it will bless everyone that reads it.
Soon, one chapter of Land of Lost Socks will be posted on the Neotribune in a series of posts. It is a short story and a tribute to my Amy and the love we shared. In some way I would like to believe that the Land of Lost Socks really does exist.
My thanks to the folks at Neotrib for allowing me do post this.
The end for now.