Imagine you (or your husband) watched your child get abducted when she was eleven years old, and now, eighteen years later, you get a call from the FBI, and they put her on the phone.
I mean, what words come to mind? Is this a joke? Is it really you? You've got to be kidding.
After all those years, it would be hard to even believe, don't you think? You'd want proof.
And even as you'd be rejoicing the fact that indeed, my daughter is here, she's alive, wouldn't you be SO angry at what these people, her captors, stole from you?? And HER. Especially her. Who knows what all they've done to Jaycee and her children -- the very fact that there ARE children -- I mean, how would you begin to get over that part of it?
I imagine being the mother, and I imagine being Jaycee, and it makes me ache from someplace deep, deep inside. I mean, the things we humans do to each other.
But. I'm happy for them, you know? They've got another chance to love each other. They can heal. And that mystery, that awful awful mystery, can now begin to be put to rest.
Wishing all those involved health and happiness and healing.
I am sooooo with you on this! How can you ever retrieve all that was stolen from these poor, poor people? My heart just hurts every time I think about it.
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Debbie