Prologue
Recently two thick scrapbooks were delivered to me. They were written in a clear and minute woman’s hand. In the front was an introductory page, by the same hand, with these few lines.
Dear Uncle Bill, I haven’t forgotten you after these years of silence. In the past we had the opportunity to exchange words, either on the phone or on the net, and on those occasions I could tell you everything about my life and my mother. Then fate suddenly changed the course of my young life and I lost contact with you. Only recently, with the help of an investigator, I found your address. I wanted to send you this manuscript.
These are notes from my diary which I wrote in the years after we lost contact.
You may ask why I did it. You were always supportive during my younger days, and I remember them.
It was during this time that I became fond of you and I started to love and trust you for the help you always gave me. You have been there for me more than my real father, therefore I owe you this.
I’m grown up now, or better, life has transformed me rapidly into a young matured woman, and in a relatively short time I have undergone many experiences. The innocence of the girl in me has gone forever, but still I have good memories from the past. I treasure those days we had together, when you introduced me through your stories to the Australian outback. Since then I started to love those animals and your country.
In my diary you will find the missing links of my life, and I know they will be a revelation and will surprise you. I have to admit that what I wrote would appear to someone as an unbelievable and amazing story, but it really happened to me in the simple way in which I have narrated. Reading through these pages you will get a complete picture of my life and be able to judge the events and the reasons that took me along such a difficult path.
More then likely, by the time we meet again, and I hope it will be soon, I will have more surprising news for you. I won’t tell you any more now. I wish that, remembering the past, you will be tempted to write again a few stories. If you do, I would love to read them.
Thank you for everything, Uncle Bill.
It was such an unexpected surprise receiving that note from my little Dolores, together with the thick manuscript.
I spent the next several hours reading through those words, diligently written in an educated way, and I also tried, using my imagination, to read between the lines what she didn’t write, to get the complete picture of her life.
Finally I spoke to her on the phone, promising a visit in the near future, and asking permission to write the story of her life.
To which she replied simply, ‘Yes.’
She felt her experiences could help somebody else in their young life.
- Blog di Carlo Gabbi
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