Our Precious Daughter
She was my buddy, my companion, our little girl
On a damp, misty Sunday morning in April 1969 I carried our very sick precious daughter, my wife and her mother by my side, into the side door of the Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center In New York City. We came out that same door hand-in-hand with tears rolling down our cheeks without our previous daughter.
Would she make her 6-year-old birthday on June 26 and enjoy being a first grader, waiting on the corner and riding the big yellow bus to school. Learning new things and making new friends at school? The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
Would she make her 13th birthday as a budding adolescent dealing with all the challenges that are present going from being a girl to becoming a woman? Would she have the experience of having “puppy love” relationships only to be so hurt and lonely when they came to an end. The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
Would she enjoy turning 16 and being a high school student. Would she be the Tom Boy sport enthusiast like her sister or the fashion-conscious belle like her baby sister? Would she find her soul mate like her mother did in high school and go “steady” throughout those four years? Would she eagerly and with great anticipation look forward to going to the prom and various high school balls? Would she be studious or just a fun-loving teenager? The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
Would she anticipate her 21st birthday and accept being an adult? Would she be finishing college, getting married and starting a career? Would she walk down the aisle with her dad as the organist plays, “Here Comes the Bride”? Would she have the joy of living as a young woman with great promise? Would she set her goals and aspirations which would lead to a meaningful and fulfilled life? The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
Would she settle in for her 30th birthday and enjoy it with her family? Would she have children and, if so, how many and would they be boys or girls? Would she be living in the same area in the northeast or in some other section of the country? Would she be a successful businesswoman or be a stay-at-home mom? The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
Would the ever so important 40th birthday leave its mark on her life? Would she have the experience of being with family, including grandchildren, to celebrate this milestone? Would she begin winding down her career if she had chosen that direction? The answer would be NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
It is now 2023 and would she be looking forward to her 60th birthday? Would this be the time to begin planning for retiring and taking life at a more leisurely pace? Would there be a gathering of family and friends to celebrate this vastly important phase of life? The answer is NO because of the damp, misty Sunday morning in April.
The damp, misty Sunday morning in April 1969 left a hole in our hearts that are filled with the memories of Our Precious Daughter. She fought a valiant fight against leukemia and the attendant medications. She handled the pain and suffering with a patience that few would have, and her only complaints were when the pain became so difficult to bear. She truly was a joy and won the hearts of those with whom she came in contact.
She was my buddy, my companion, our little girl
I have shared our experience considering the significance of this particular year in what would have been Annette’s life. What I have stated should in no way be construed to minimize the love that we have for our other daughters, Vicki and Julie. They are and have been a real and true joy in our lives and we are ever so grateful to be their parents and they are children. The difference lies in the reality of them being with us. We can call, text and visit them and they can do the same with us. Much of what was included in the tribute to Annette and did not happen, we experienced with the other girls and these experiences have certainly been a source of everlasting love.