Excerpts from Hummingbirds Don’t Fly in the Rain
We had been sitting in that shop for quite awhile when suddenly we saw a bunch of men running out of the search office with their backpacks. They started jumping into their vehicles and taking off. We knew they must have found them because one of the guys grabbed a stretcher before jumping into the back of one of the trucks. We ran outside and were able to stop one of the cars as it was driving off.
“What’s going on? Did you find them? Did you find them?” We were frantic.
One of the men inside the car held up one finger, his index finger, and said, “One.”
One what? One person was found? Which person was found, and where? Who found them, and where are the others? All these questions–and no answers! They drove off and left us standing in the street, not knowing anything.
At this point my brain ceased to function. I went into a kind of daze, thinking to myself over and over, Please, God, let it be Talia, please, it has to be, it cannot be any other way, they have to have found Talia safe and sound . . .
Time came to a complete standstill. I have no idea how much time passed, but as I continued thinking about why the one girl was walking alone, a man pulled up and said he knew the name of the girl who had been found. Oh, my God, I was about to throw up and pass out. Valerie and I were standing on the walkway between the street and the porch of the little office, staring at each other, both of us praying to hear our daughter’s name. I could hardly bear it, but on the outside I was as still as could be. Valerie and I continued to look at each other as the man told us the name of the girl . . .
I walked out to the porch of this little building just in time to hear Bob saying that if we did not find them soon, it would be too late. Too late? Too late for what? What are you talking about! I told Bob that people who‘ve been in plane crashes have lived for weeks. A man and his kids were just lost in the snow for a week, and they were OK. He said something like, “I’m a doctor, and I know what I’m talking about. If they have injuries, their bodies will shut down after twenty-four hours, and then it will be too late.”
It was unreal. Here I was in Panama, in some strange little town, in some strange woman’s car, charging my phone, while waiting to get into a small, old, private helicopter to go up in a storm to look for my daughter, missing with her dad and friend in a small plane in the mountains. There was no controlling my crying at this point. In fact, all control had disappeared. It was incredibly hard not knowing.
My cell phone never stopped ringing. I had to squat down in my little spot and talk with my face in my lap because my charger cord was too short. The phone never had a chance to ring out loud because I would get an incoming call while I was on the phone. I had to answer every call. Each time I thought it would be Talia, calling from the strange house of some helpful person who had found her and the others. I was not going to miss that call.
As soon as we got to Linda’s, I lay down on the couch, which was my bed, and cried. I then drifted into a half-sleep. Just as I was drifting off, I had a strange feeling on my wrist. It was as if someone had wrapped their fingers around my left wrist. Just for a moment, then it was gone. I opened my eyes. Talia, was that you? I know it’s you. I love you, Sugar, so much! I just knew it was Talia touching me—she was trying to communicate with me!
One of the calls that came in on my phone was from Michael’s mother, Anne. She was hysterical. She was in Vietnam on vacation, and it seemed no one had called her to tell her about her son and granddaughter. Anne found out because friends she was traveling with heard about the plane crash on the news and went to her room to tell her.
There was now not a single adult in Michael’s life that had not totally betrayed his trust. At the time I had no idea what the ramifications of these breaches of trust would be on the way Michael handled relationships and business for the rest of his life.
Another thing I did when Talia was a baby was never to speak to her in baby talk. It’s natural for people to walk up to a baby and speak in baby talk because they think it’s cute, but what’s the purpose? Really, there is none. It’s not as if babies are born understanding baby talk and can only learn to speak properly when they’re older. A baby is a blank slate, looking to learn from the very beginning, so why not speak to children correctly from infancy and give them the basis to learn languages at a young age?
It’s important to realize that by the time a child is a preteen, his or her views on truth, justice, what is right and what is wrong are already formed. From the moment they’re born, children’s views are influenced by every word you speak to them and every example you give in the way you live your life in front of them. I don’t believe in a “Do as I say, not as I do” way of life. I don’t think that teaches children anything, and that’s not how I raised Talia.
I basically had ten minutes to get to court. The judge gives you very little time before reading the verdict. I leaped up from my chair and hurried out the door and down the street. It was right then that I started to feel sick. I could hardly breathe. I was really nervous. I was nearly running down the street, trying to get to the court before the verdict was read. As I neared the courthouse steps I couldn’t breathe. I tried to compose myself, and then I slowly opened the courtroom door. As I opened the door I saw the judge standing up, facing the jury box, holding the verdict form in his hands.
It’s strange. During this most devastating time of my life, I actually have a great deal of peace. It may seem impossible to understand, but it’s really easy when you realize that I get through my days and nights because I know that Talia is with me, and is always going to be with me.