My daughter, Ashley, was the most beautiful girl. She had dark auburn hair that sparkled red in the sunlight, the only person I've seen with that color. Ashley had the most infectious grin.
It was impossible to see her smile and not want to join in. She had the best giggle too. She loved squishy, gooey, mushy Hallmark movies.
The sappier they were, the happier she was. She loved romance and a happy ending, even if she never got one for herself. And she would giggle at off-color jokes, letting me know that Rett syndrome had taken her ability to use her body and voice, but definitely not her mind.
I took comfort in that fact, all of her life—right up to finding out she had been raped repeatedly by her stepfather, Brian Kenneth Urban. I knew she was there and present, even if he treated her like an object. He was handling a beautiful human.
Rett syndrome is a condition described as something like cerebral palsy, osteoporosis, epilepsy, and Parkinson's all in one disease. She was unable to walk or talk, feed or bathe herself. And she was unable to tell me what had happened.
He had to take off her diaper and clothing to assault her, and then dress her again so I would not know. Ashley's seizures became more numerous and severe, and the neurologist and I could not figure out why, so he asked me to bring him video footage of one. I tried to record the seizures with my phone, but it was too much to just stand there videoing, so I bought cameras and asked my then-husband Brian to he.
