I Did it!

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I did it, Peggy.

I set out to write your story and I completed it. But what I didn’t know was that I would be adding my own story as well.

I also didn’t know how hard it would be to put it in black and white. I figured it would be okay since I’ve shared our story for years. It was different, very different.

Holding the book in my hands the other day when I got it through the mail was surreal.

A lot of life within those one hundred and seventy-five pages. A lot of pain.

And now here I sit. Knowing I accomplished what I set out to do leaves me with mixed feelings. Yes, I feel a sense of accomplishment. The technological part alone caused me a lot of big headaches. And you can verify that with a number of people.

And as any author knows besides writing the book, I still had life to do. I dealt with things like a leaky pipe, a soaked carpet. Taking the rug out.  My computer broke. I had work done on our house as they insulated it. We had a few days clean-up after they were done. I worked on another computer, which was difficult. Well, you get the idea.

But I faced those obstacles and did it anyway. It feels good to say, “I did it.”

But I’m sad too. Writing BROKEN, opened the door to some memories which have camped out in my mind, refusing to leave. But maybe that’s okay. You see, remembering the difficult parts of our lives makes us sensitive to others who are hurting. I want to be sensitive to others.

We live our lives where people settle for imitations of community. Many are lonely. And when hurting people are alone, the pain is intensified.

I’m praying for those who hurt. I’m praying God uses words I’ve written to ease someone’s pain.

God’s the only one who can do that. He comforts us so we can comfort others.

I miss you Peggy. But that’s okay, it won’t be forever. Some day we’ll see each other again and then we’ll catch up.

But for now I’ll think about a story I recently wrote. It was about you, Mom and me going for a special tea. I know the story wasn’t real, but it felt real. And for five hundred words or so, I felt like we were together again. We talked, we laughed. It was special.

Well I’m going to have to go, the book launch is today. People can actually buy the book on Amazon.

I’ve made a list of things that determine what success means regarding this book. And you know what? That list is really helping me.  And guess whose idea it was? Your eldest son, Drew.

Too often we determine our success by the wrong indicators. We use things like money, numbers of sales, etc. Knowing this book can encourage someone will mean I’m successful.  Knowing someone else may feel less alone, that too would mean success.

It’s all perspective.

Well, now I do have to go. But I’ll talk again soon.

In the meantime. I can imagine what you would say if you were here.

You’d smile and say, “That’s good, Anne. I’m proud of you.”

I love, you Peg. I always will.

Your sister,

Anne

Remembering Peggy

Peg and me

Me and my sister Peggy

September 12, 1982

The day you disappeared. Out of my life, but never my mind.

There was a hole that never got filled.

You and I were supposed to be sitting together talking about our grandkids.

You never even got to see yours.

When you lose a loved one you get a lot of nevers to deal with

I hate that

I want to focus on the always statements instead

I’ll always be glad we were sisters

I’ll always remember the little stories

I’ll always love you

One day we’re going to be reunited, Peggy

And we’ll sit and talk incessantly, like we used to

And we’ll laugh. A whole lot.

And we’ll never have to say goodbye.

I love you more than any words can say

And that won’t change

I promise

Hey Peg, it was me that took your Easter peeps out of your basket.

I just thought you should know.

P.S. I wrote a book about being broken

I wrote about you and I wrote about me.

I just want to help anyone out there who might also be broken.

One day we’ll be completely whole. One day.

Love you Peggy,

anniversary dates

September 12th was an anniversary date. Actually, two dates in one.

Twenty-eight years ago on that date my sister Peggy Dianovsky disappeared. I was living in Colorado at the time and I received a letter saying the letter would shock me, she was getting a divorce. She was right, I was shocked. I dialed her number and picked it up and was upset. 

“I can’t talk now, he’s harassing me again.”

I told her I would pray and hung up. Later that night she called back and talked for about 20 minutes and then told me she had to go, she didn’t want to run up the bill. So I called her back,

“Okay, it’s my dime, now talk.”

She talked for an hour and told me what she had been going through. She found out when she called the police he willingly left and she was relieved.

“I wish I would have done it sooner.”

We talked at length and hung up telling each other we’d talk again soon and that we loved each other.

We never spoke again. Two days after that call I received word that she had disappeared and no one knew where.

Five years ago her “missing person” case was changed to a possible homicide case. He husband was charged with her murder. A long ten days later we sat in a deathly quiet courtroom as the judge pronounced him, 

“Not guilty.”

We sat frozen watching her smiling husband receive high fives from family members.

That was one anniversary.

Thirty-eight years ago I got a ride home from a friend after a Bible study. I listened intently as this housewife shared why Jesus came to earth. On that rainy night on my way home I made a decision that would effect my eternity. I trusted Christ as my savior.

I have to say each September 12th these two events vie for my attention. For years I forgot about becoming a christian on that date and instead was overwhelmed by the events of my sister.

I am so thankful that my sister also knew the Lord. One day I will sit and we’ll talk non-stop like we used to. 

Both of those events are important, but one outshines the other.

We don’t know where my sister’s body is. We may never know. But I know she is in heaven with our savior.

I don’t know all the details of what happened to her, but I know God was with her. He promises those who know him that he will never leave them or forsake them. 

I remember one time when I was so distraught at what her last moments could have been like. It was in that darkness God whispered to me words that gave me hope.

“Anne, I was with her.”

I believe that with my whole heart.

It’s funny. Two anniversary dates and God was there for both of them. 

Now I can look at September 12th differently. No longer do I have to dread it and try to make it through. I simply have to be still and remember that He is God.