A Wish for Ashley

For two years, it has been hard to sleep. At first I would awake because I was sleeping with one ear open. Listening for my Uncle Will across the hall, wanting to be sure that if he called for help I would hear. Later I awoke because I was sleeping with one eye open. Looking out for signs of death, hoping that if I saw It, I could fight him off and keep Will for a little while longer. After he was gone I awoke because I was swimming in memories. Reliving every conversation, wondering if I could have done more, if things could have been different. I dreamed of my Uncle Will, and I dreamed of my cousin Ashley. Happy. Hurting. Stable. Lonely. I would wake up so often during every night, I began to feel that was normal. I'll have an extra large, French Vanilla coffee with skim milk and splenda, I would order- on autopilot- each morning.

For the past 9 days, I've slept through the night. At first I thought it was a fluke. Later I thought I was lucky.  After a week, I knew it was for a reason. Will is resting now. Ashley is safe. My mind could calm down, knowing that we brought my Uncle Will his peace. My mind could stop speculating, knowing that Ashley has been loved and will know how much we all love her. For months I've been struggling, grieving, unable to move on. Now I am pressing forward, finding healthy ways to keep Will in my life and waiting for word from Ashley that we'll be able to be a piece of hers.

I'm at my mom's house right now, alone. A few minutes ago Zak started barking, loudly, from the basement. I went down- on autopilot- and gave him some treats. And then I sat and pet him for a while. You know Audra, if he decides to attack there's no one home to save you. I quieted the voice, when I heard another one speak. “I miss your dad” I heard myself say, and he barked. “Thanks for being here,” I continued on. And he smiled.

With love (and thanks for all of your well wishes and congratulations,

Audra

Dear Ashley,

I cannot even begin to explain how I'm feeling right now. To know that you now know we're searching for you. To know that in a few short days you will read the letter my mother wrote this evening. To know that you are doing well, and that there is a small possibility that you may want to know us. I am so happy. So hopeful. So grateful. So relieved.

They don't want us to overwhelm you... but if you're reading this, you've seen the website and you're probably very overwhelmed.  So let me apologize; let me explain. I love you. And I have missed you. So much. I have been looking for you for 11 years and I created this whole 'A Wish for Ashley' project because I couldn't take our separation any longer. So I went after you. By any means necessary. This website has been the most uncomfortable thing I've ever done. Opening up my life to strangers. Opening up my life because it has always felt incomplete without you in it.

Maybe one day you'll give me the opportunity to tell you the story in person. Of searching for you in high school and college. Of searching for you in the years since. Of the promise I made to your father, the promise that inspired me to make this website. I would tell you about the many wonderful girls named Ashley that I have been so honored to get to know along the way. They helped me search for you; they made fools of themselves as I did, calling random people, hoping beyond hope. I would tell you about the crazy people who stood on the CBS Early Show plaza on September 1st, holding up neon yellow signs with this URL on it; I would tell you of the people all over the country that saw the signs and emailed me to encourage me and send their prayers that we would one day find you. I would tell you about the Jimmy Fund Walk, and how we limped 13.1 miles to honor your father and celebrate you. I would tell you about the news writers and reporters who put up with me crying through interviews but who believed in the power of family and love and helped us move our search for you forward. I would tell you about all the false alarms, the hopes, and the fears those stories generated. But most of all I would tell you about the incredible love for you we have always had that kept us going. Kept us hoping.

Ashley, I don't know if you remember me. We use to play in the ball pit at the indoor playground. We use to play tag- you were fast, but even when I was faster, I let you win. My sisters and I use to sing to you- constantly- any song you demanded. Usually 'Maybe' from Annie. Ashley, I don't know if you're ready to know me now, and I don't want you to feel rushed. I'm 25. I'm quiet, but get talkative and silly when I'm comfortable. I'm sarcastic, but this journey has made me less cynical. You may not be ready, but whenever you are, I hope that you'll forgive me for all the crazy stunts I have pulled to find you. I love you. If nothing else, I want you to know that.

To all of you reading this who aren't Ashley, thank you. You have shown and taught me so much over the last six months. Right now I'm holding back details about how she was found, but know that she has been, and that we want to respect how she wants to proceed. You all helped make this possible. You inspired me and encouraged me; you made me believe in people. You are helping me, however slowly, to move on and say goodbye to my Uncle Will. I can now. Because I kept my promise. Will is looking down and he knows that now. He knows that if she'll give me the chance, I will tell her what he wanted her to know. Uncle Will, I can only imagine... you made me imagine a life without you in it that wouldn't be filled with sadness and longing, but hope and promise. I love you more than I can ever express; I love you and I hope that now you can get some sleep. You're not done yet, but you've already done a lot.

Ashley, maybe this is just the beginning. I hope that it is, however, I will abide by your wishes, whatever they may be. That's because I believe in wishes. Especially now that our ultimate wish has been granted.

With love (love is all you need),

Audra

I admit it. I have the strangest taste in music. For me, music is less about rhythms and instruments and more about the memories I attach to each song. Sure, I might recognize that N*Sync made no earth breaking contributions to our musical culture, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate blaring 'Tearin' Up My Heart' every now and again and remembering me and my oldest friend Alex swooning over boy bands way back in the day. Sure, I might recognize that the Delilah radio show plays some of the oldest and most maudlin music ever created, but seriously, have you ever listened to the call-in show? Hilarious!!!!

It was when I was listening to the Delilah show last week that a very old (of course), but memorable (for me) song came through the waves; Desree's 1994 ballad 'You Gotta Be.'A power song for any young woman, Delilah would argue. A power song in my memory. It was the last song I remember singing along to in the car as we drove back from Amazement to drop Ashley off at her foster home. The last song I ever sang- in my ten year old soprano- to my cousin.

As the song blared through my speakers, I listened more intently to the words than I ever have before:

Listen as your day unfolds Challenge what the future holds Try and keep your head up to the sky Lovers, they may cause you tears Go ahead release your fears Stand up and be counted Don't be ashamed to cry You gotta be You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold,you gotta be wiser, you gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm You gotta stay together All I know, all I know, love will save the day

The song ended. And I was shaken up. Those were some of the last words I said to my cousin before she was taken from us. It took me a while to learn them. To live them. At 25 years old, I'm just now figuring them out.

I've learned to listen. To people who write in with advice. Leads. No matter how far fetched. Because listening is the only thing that brings me closer. I've learned to challenge. If I stood by my future would be without Ashley. Without her knowing that I love her, even if she doesn't want me around. I've challenged my family members to take this risk. I've challenged strangers who have questioned the likelihood I will succeed. I've challenged myself. To keep going. Try and keep your head up to the sky. I am. Each and everyday. My Uncle Will is up there, making sure I never feel alone.  Lovers, or rather, the people I love, may make me cry, but they are worth every tear.  And Ashley, I've shed so many for you. I've gotten better about releasing my fears. Fears of failure, of not granting this wish. Fear of rejection, of Ashley never revealing herself, even if just to say she's ok and would like to be left alone. Fear of success. Will I believe it when I've done it? Stand up and be counted, don't be ashamed to cry. Well I have a bunch of reporters who can confirm I've done just that...

So for 2010 I'm working on the next part: being bad, bold, wise. Being hard, tough, stronger. Being cool, being calm and staying together. Because I love my cousin. And I have to believe that love will bring this story to its rightful end. Whatever end that may be.

I know that for me, I gotta be able to balance this search with the other opportunities life has opened for me. It has taken some time. Lots of stress. Lots of sleepless nights. But I'm getting there. And for me, that means now balancing this search with an international adventure. I'm being bad (my mother wants to strangle me) and bold (I've even scared myself) by making the decision to go to Ghana for 5 weeks, leaving on the 29th. Will that be a wise decision? Seems we'll find out, but I'll take you all along with me.

My going abroad doesn't mean I'm abandoning this project. Trust I'll be A Wish for Ashley-ing for as many hours in Ghana as I pull here in Cambridge. My going abroad does mean I'm trying to embrace some of the values I sang in 1995 to my cousin.

Ashley, you have no idea. But you've inspired me to be a much better version of myself. Do you continue to inspire everyone you touch? I think you do... wow, I miss you.

With love (and patience. One of these days...),
Audra