To Sara
From “To Sara. A Memoir.”
Thursday , April 8th, 1993
Four weeks! It’s a miracle in itself that you’ve made it this far. The doctors have not gotten back to us on where we’ll be going.
You’re on a respirator rate of 20, and it’s doing all the breathing for you.. Hang in there, beautiful.
A Message from Joe…
I wrote my book, “To Sara. A Memoir.” over 30 years ago. I’m not a writer, I am a father, business owner, and a friend to many, with no writing credentials. I wrote this in 1993 as a diary to my premature daughter with the intention of her reading it when she was older.
My daughter, Sara, was diagnosed in utero with a tumor called a hemangioma. I truly believed she would live a normal life. I abruptly stopped writing when I knew that she would never read it on the day she died.
No one has ever read the diary, including me, until now. Now, 31 years later I am following my higher power’s voice saying it’s time. It’s time to now tell her story such that some good can come from her short but inspirational and beautiful life.
The Community… You…
Any proceeds from the sale of the book will be used to fund a not-for-profit and to support the website and Facebook page to help grieving parents tell their stories and support one another.
We need your ideas for our Foundation and what best to do with the money we raise. Thank You.
We hope you will share your experiences and provide necessary support to each other.
Dedicated to anyone who has lost a child.
This truly epic story in 1993 encompasses a lifetime of events condensed in 43 days.
Included is a snowstorm of the century that dropped 41 inches on Syracuse, NY in one day, celebrating Easter Sunday with family in the hospital cafeteria,a car that broke down and had to be towed over 40 miles twice, a furniture-eating German Shepard, overseeing the construction of a two-unit townhouse in Scriba, NY, and getting tested for the chickenpox virus.
This while all holding down a job at the local utility, Niagara Mohawk Power Company, while my wife, Andrea, had an emergency C-section at Crouse Hospital and recuperated at the Central New York Ronald McDonald House because our in-utero baby was fighting for her life battling a blood-sucking tumor twisted around her vital organs.
She continued that brave fight as a preemie with hydrops that caused her to be born double the normal size and weight.
I couldn’t make this all up; I don’t have that kind of imagination. It’s all unbelievably true.
