A Daughter's Feelings

By Amber Dawn Carlsen

From the Fall 2005 issue of Hopes & Dreams, newsletter of the Illinois Chapter, Huntington's Disease Society of America.

My name is Amber and I am 19. My mother recently died of Huntington’s disease. I really feel that I need to get my emotions out and share what I’ve been through.

Kelly Lee Davenport-Carlsen
July 16, 1962 – April 29, 2005

She came to me in my dreams, the world’s purest, most beautiful angel. Her long wavy brown hair shining caught in a sliver of light.

Her skin was glowing and radiant full of color and life no longer waxy and pale. Her eyes the smoothest brown drank every inch of me in. She was smiling a smile so much like my own. She came to me and caressed my check with her hand untangled, and soft like satin. She pulled me close, revived with strength, her arms wrapped around my limp body. She held me for the first time in twelve years. She breathed me in with the same nose I used to hate, but now admire because it’s her nose. She kissed my eyes, my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and finally my slightly, in awe, parted lips.

Euphoria is a feeling that I can’t remember, but she took me there that night. She gave me the assurance and motherly love I have been wanting, needing, aching for my whole life. We took a walk, hand in hand, just enjoying the fact that we were finally together. She began to tell me in a clear unbroken voice all the things she hasn’t been able to tell me.

Then, the dream came to an end, her lips to my ear; she whispered the words I have waited so long to hear, these words I will never forget. “My baby, my sweet precious child, I love you!”

Amber Dawn Carlsen
July 30, 2005

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Created: Feb. 5, 2006
Last Updated: Nov. 13, 2010