You can’t put something like that into words. How could you? My Sally stood on the centre’s steps, draped in sunlight, dressed in the same dress I’d buried her in. She stood there, smiled, even waved. Smiled because she remembered me. I knew then it didn’t matter what she’d become, she was still my little girl. And that was all that mattered.
Cradling her in my arms, I must have cried for ten minutes straight. It were Sally that patted my head and said, ‘There, there.’
We were the lucky ones. Sally had been able to say her name. I mean, what are the odds? Everything else didn’t matter. Sally was back, that was the important thing. She’d always be my little girl. And that was never going to change.
Diary of Evard McGregor