Milton's Moment

"In 1976, I met Carole Acampora. She was to profoundly change my life.On November 4, at 6:02pm, as I was eating  dinner in the cafeteria of the Bronx Lebanon Hospital, where I was doing my medical residency, she walked up to me and asked me why I looked so sad. Four months before, I had a six year relationship end, and I was having a lot of trouble recovering  from it. Carole sat down and talked to me, and strangely, I felt better.

She was the director of the WIC program  (Women, Infants and Children Nutritional Program) at the hospital. She held an advanced degree in nutrition but also had worked as a barmaid and a dancer. I once asked her why such a beautiful and brilliant woman  would live her life so much in the fast lane. Her answer took me by surprise. She said that she knew that she would not be here that long and wanted to live her life to the max. She told me that she knew that she would be gone in her early thirties. I told her that she was talking nonsense and that she had a long life ahead of her. Over the next few years , as we grew closer, I came to realize her wonderful gift of healing.

Carole was always helping others. Always looking to do a kind deed. Whenever someone was in need, there was Carole to help. She was totally giving, never asking for anything in return. Along the way, Carole wrote and illustrated a beautiful children’s story about a turtle and loved to read it to me. She was extremely proud of her book and always talked about having it published. However, late in 1980, Carole developed cancer. During her illness, I made her a promise. One day I would write a children’s book. It would be dedicated to her, so that children everywhere would always know who she was. On  Feb. 18, 1982, at the age of 32, Carole passed away. I sat in Mt. Carmel Church listening to the priest talk about her wonderful ways of having touched and helped so many of us during her short sojourn on earth. Hearing him confirmed to me that God had just called one of his angels back to heaven to work on something more important than dealing with us.

On my ride to the cemetary to say my final good-bye, I was overwhelmed by a feeling that I had this obligation to write the book and dedicate it to Carole. I reminded myself that I was not a good writer and questioned my ability to do so, but at her grave I promised Carole that one day it would become a reality. For 17 years I was unable in many, many attempts to write that story. Many times I sat down and tried to make up a story I thought that children would enjoy. But I never succeeded. I was told that my talents were of being a healer, not a writer and especially not of children’s stories. So, when I would spiritually  talk with Carole, I would apologized to her for my failure. But deep inside I knew that she would not fail me. She never had...