“With every dark memory, there is light too. When masks and food were left at my doorstep. The way my sister never failed to include us in her grocery trips. The way our teachers persevered. There’s a silver lining to take away from it all.“
“CPS told my parents, ‘You cannot drop your kid off at a group home and not come back. If you don’t get her, you will be charged with abuse and neglect.’ My parents didn’t budge. At 14, I was given two weeks to find a new place to live. All I wanted was to be wanted. ‘I believe in you, I love you, you are worth it.’ My sister’s boss took me in.”
“It wasn’t the day I got my driver’s license. It wasn’t the day I got married or had children. Losing a parent changes you.”
“I’m told, ‘You will never see research being done because you’re too rare.’ I have lived my life with fear, against a silently ticking clock.”
“Oh, are you wearing a dress? I didn’t even notice.”
“I go to bed and beat myself up for all the things I didn’t do perfectly that day. They go to bed with smiles, and I fall asleep with a panic attack. I see scars everywhere from the life I’ve survived.”
“Looking at her reflection she is forced to blink to see clearly. Her gray hair is set in curlers. She is thinking about all the friends and family she has outlived. She considers bending down to fix her knee-high stocking, but instead, sighs deeply.
“I was a lot more spontaneous back then. Plans didn’t have to be made in advance, and I could head out the door with fifteen minute’s notice.”