There are so many kinds of losses that people are dealing with. Friends, family, co-workers,... it's all around us! People are heroes in how they live their lives... working full time jobs, juggling kids, maintaining marriages and relationships, taking care of extended family members, paying their bills, keeping up with current events, cleaning their homes, entertaining, visiting sick family and friends in the hospital, supporting friends, volunteering, running the kids here and there, putting kids through University, moving for jobs, working extra hours to get ahead at work, repairs and maintenance around the house, donating to charity, getting involved in church, sitting on boards for worthy causes, taking courses to develop themselves, learning new skills, mentoring co-workers, taking up hobbies, all while they are dealing with bigger things than we can ever imagine.
People who are caregivers for their grandparents compromising their own spare time and sacrificing some of their own dreams to care for someone they love. And dealing with the grief of loosing who their grandparent once was for them, and grieving their loss of freedom from their life while they have been caregiver and realizing their life doesn't look like they thought it would and grieving the should'da, could'da, would'da's
The parents who are living their lives while advocating for their children with autism. Integrating them into the school system, arranging for additional support to provide then with every opportunity available to them. Or parents dealing with many different mental illness with their children and some who are the voice for their adult children that cannot advocate for themselves. Along with the worry of how the adult child will cope and how they will be cared for once the parent dies. And they could also be grieving the child they once had before the child was diagnosed or grieving what could have been without the mental illness.
The woman entering a romantic relationship while grieving the past relationship and not wanting to carry what didn't work in the past relationship into the new one.
Having a substansial income one year and the next year shopping for a basement apartment wondering how you will ever get back on top of your game.
Loosing your vitality due to a stroke and not having the same energy to do all the things you were once able to do. Knowing that youthful feeling is not coming back and grieving who you knew yourself to be just months before.
Having your heart set on going to University and being rejected. Grieving the plans you had for yourself and feeling like the wind has been knocked out of your sails and your life is off the rails from where you thought you were headed.
Going through a divorce that you don't want because when you said "I do" you really meant for life and grieving that sacred promise you made and not wanting to be alright with it
Changing careers and letting go of who you were in a particular role and grieving the status that the job gave you and the security the income provided.
People are out there dealing with this and so much more....I could write for hours the things people are dealing with in regards to loss. AND I know there is healing for ALL OF IT!!!!
I have been working with some incredible people who are like sailboats that have been sailing in one particular direction and by working with me through their grief process, have adjusted their sails and they are saying "This isn't me" and "I don't recognize myself".. It's like night and day!! The shifts that are occurring are like they were sailing in one direction and now they are sailing in a completely different direction that is bringing them new happiness and joy!!
HEALING IS REDISCOVERING THE BEAUTY OF LIFE
Visit us at www.thepathwaystoempowerment.com
Sunday, 19 June 2011
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Spring has Sprung - SO WHAT!!!
I remember the changing of the seasons being very upsetting in the first year of Rachels' death. The first signs of spring that we all have come to love were there as usual. Some things we can always count on.. the tulips will pop up out of the soil along side the crocus, the trees will bud, the snow will melt, the roads will crack, the lakes and streams will overflow with the water as the snow melts, the sun will feel warm on our faces, it will feel wonderful to shed the gloves and scarves.
But then there are the things that we thought we could count on and no longer can. And there are messages and signs of what should or could have been all around to remind us of what isn't. Or at least that was how it was for me.
I was reminded of this a week or so ago when I walked into Walmart and saw the bright pink and orange skipping ropes.. Geez, didn't you always have to have a new one.. I sure did!!! The hip swivel hopper thingie you put around your one ankle and swing around and jump over with the other foot. The bright colours of clothes with the blues, greens, pinks, and oranges. the bikes lined up as you walk in the door. Mykids always wanted the next size up. All those signs of spring that used to excite me as a kid also excited my kids and it just brought an extra little kick to your step.
And the rain, that sometimes feels like a drag but you know the April showers will bring May flowers - the cliche is actually true.. And the kids had their colorful umbrellas with their favorite Disney character printed on a couple of the panels and matching raincoats and boots.. could they be any cuter?
All these things were signs of things that were not going to happen the first year Rachel had died.. There would be no bike riding, the sound of kids playing in the street caused pangs of pain in my heart, the sounds of laughter were just not joyful sounds for me. I felt robbed of the simple pleasures of life that I thought were going to be part of being a Mom. Nobody is prepared for the pains of motherhood that losing a child brings.
But this could be the case for anyone with a recent loss. There are certain routines we all have that are seasonal. Perhaps you and your spouse always plan your summer vacation in the spring, or you take that trip down south in the spring, or you plant your garden together, or whatever hobbie or activity you enjoyed with a love one that looses its luster without them.
Yes, the changing of the seasons can be difficult. The first thing to do is give yourself permission to be in whatever emotional state you are in.. It's ok to be happy and enjoy the changing of the seasons and its ok to not be happy. It's not like you can change how you feel anyway.. It's just how you feel. And then there is the mext moment and how you feel then and so on.
Grieving is a process and you cannot get through that process without feeling all sorts of different emotions and it will be different for everyone.
And the seasons just continue to change and carry on whether you do or not.. that, we can depend on for sure and I remember in the first year resenting that.. "Doesn't the world know I have stopped!!! Shouldn't the world stop too until I get this sorted out.. How dare the world carry on while I am down and out.. "
Be gentle on yourself and you will get there. And while you are healing, take in the sunshine as you can. Every ray of sunshine will move you one step closer.. Whatever that sunshine is for you.
Cheryl
I am holding my next Life After Loss Workshop on May 7 from 1 - 3. For more information, email me at cherlucky@ rogers.com or visit us at www.thepathwaystoempowerment.com
But then there are the things that we thought we could count on and no longer can. And there are messages and signs of what should or could have been all around to remind us of what isn't. Or at least that was how it was for me.
I was reminded of this a week or so ago when I walked into Walmart and saw the bright pink and orange skipping ropes.. Geez, didn't you always have to have a new one.. I sure did!!! The hip swivel hopper thingie you put around your one ankle and swing around and jump over with the other foot. The bright colours of clothes with the blues, greens, pinks, and oranges. the bikes lined up as you walk in the door. Mykids always wanted the next size up. All those signs of spring that used to excite me as a kid also excited my kids and it just brought an extra little kick to your step.
And the rain, that sometimes feels like a drag but you know the April showers will bring May flowers - the cliche is actually true.. And the kids had their colorful umbrellas with their favorite Disney character printed on a couple of the panels and matching raincoats and boots.. could they be any cuter?
All these things were signs of things that were not going to happen the first year Rachel had died.. There would be no bike riding, the sound of kids playing in the street caused pangs of pain in my heart, the sounds of laughter were just not joyful sounds for me. I felt robbed of the simple pleasures of life that I thought were going to be part of being a Mom. Nobody is prepared for the pains of motherhood that losing a child brings.
But this could be the case for anyone with a recent loss. There are certain routines we all have that are seasonal. Perhaps you and your spouse always plan your summer vacation in the spring, or you take that trip down south in the spring, or you plant your garden together, or whatever hobbie or activity you enjoyed with a love one that looses its luster without them.
Yes, the changing of the seasons can be difficult. The first thing to do is give yourself permission to be in whatever emotional state you are in.. It's ok to be happy and enjoy the changing of the seasons and its ok to not be happy. It's not like you can change how you feel anyway.. It's just how you feel. And then there is the mext moment and how you feel then and so on.
Grieving is a process and you cannot get through that process without feeling all sorts of different emotions and it will be different for everyone.
And the seasons just continue to change and carry on whether you do or not.. that, we can depend on for sure and I remember in the first year resenting that.. "Doesn't the world know I have stopped!!! Shouldn't the world stop too until I get this sorted out.. How dare the world carry on while I am down and out.. "
Be gentle on yourself and you will get there. And while you are healing, take in the sunshine as you can. Every ray of sunshine will move you one step closer.. Whatever that sunshine is for you.
Cheryl
I am holding my next Life After Loss Workshop on May 7 from 1 - 3. For more information, email me at cherlucky@ rogers.com or visit us at www.thepathwaystoempowerment.com
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
The Healing Journey
Ever since Rachel died, I have had this fire in my belly about wanting to help others heal. I knew I had to do my own work so that I could fulfill on my purposeful intention. The Pathway of healing is a winding road that does not allow for many short cuts. However, in the end, I could honestly say "I grieved her well". The pain was excruciating but it is a reflection of the depth of my love.. The deeper the love, the deeper the cut. I could not believe how physical the pain was. And I was surprised how the grief tossed me around like I was at the whim of a tidal wave. At any given time, I could get taken down without warning. I remember someone saying that one day you will look at a little girl and it will bring a smile to your face and you will feel joy. Once I stopped the urge of wanting to scratch their eyes out, I nodded in false agreement knowing that would NEVER happen. There did not appear to be a light at the end of any tunnel in those dark days and it didn't matter what anyone said or did. It was a life sentence of despair in my mind.
My faith in meeting Rachel in heaven some day kept me going and something told me I had to fight. Part of me didn't want to let anyone down when so many people were pulling for me. It didn't stop me from wanting to die and planning my suicide, but there was something stronger really deep down inside that had me know I was not finished here and that this tragedy happened for some God forsaken reason that I would never understand. I knew myself as someone that "survived" And even though I didn't want to "survive" this, there was something inside me that wouldn't let me give up.
I have never worked so hard in my life as I did when I was on my healing journey.. Time does not Heal.. It is what you do with the time that heals your soul. Healing is a verb that implies action and there were many actions taken over the years.
What I know is that there is Life After Loss and that is the message I want to convey for those who are still hurting and even those who have healed, or those who are yet to experience loss.. Loss comes in so many different forms. It is not just the death of a loved one. Life happens and with Life comes Loss. Nobody escapes without being affected by loss. Loss of job, divorce, moving, pets, loss of trust, loss of childhood through abuse, loss of self esteem, retirement, empty nesters, loss of health or a limb, loss of mobility and on and on.
There does not seem to be any education out there to teach us how to lose and how to support others how to lose and I am passionate about teaching people and leading them to their own healing journey.
I will tell stories of my experience and the stories of others that have shared with me and those who have worked with me as a client. I am a Certified Grief Recovery Specialist with the Grief Recovery Institute. Our hearts connect by sharing our stories and when our stories are told, we are known... really really known. When we share, it provides a space to connect and creates an opening for love between people.
p.s. When I see a little girl it brings a smile to my face and brings joy to my heart.... REALLY!!!
Visit my website at www.thepathwaystoempowerment.com
Healing is Rediscovering the Beauty of Life
Cheryl
My faith in meeting Rachel in heaven some day kept me going and something told me I had to fight. Part of me didn't want to let anyone down when so many people were pulling for me. It didn't stop me from wanting to die and planning my suicide, but there was something stronger really deep down inside that had me know I was not finished here and that this tragedy happened for some God forsaken reason that I would never understand. I knew myself as someone that "survived" And even though I didn't want to "survive" this, there was something inside me that wouldn't let me give up.
I have never worked so hard in my life as I did when I was on my healing journey.. Time does not Heal.. It is what you do with the time that heals your soul. Healing is a verb that implies action and there were many actions taken over the years.
What I know is that there is Life After Loss and that is the message I want to convey for those who are still hurting and even those who have healed, or those who are yet to experience loss.. Loss comes in so many different forms. It is not just the death of a loved one. Life happens and with Life comes Loss. Nobody escapes without being affected by loss. Loss of job, divorce, moving, pets, loss of trust, loss of childhood through abuse, loss of self esteem, retirement, empty nesters, loss of health or a limb, loss of mobility and on and on.
There does not seem to be any education out there to teach us how to lose and how to support others how to lose and I am passionate about teaching people and leading them to their own healing journey.
I will tell stories of my experience and the stories of others that have shared with me and those who have worked with me as a client. I am a Certified Grief Recovery Specialist with the Grief Recovery Institute. Our hearts connect by sharing our stories and when our stories are told, we are known... really really known. When we share, it provides a space to connect and creates an opening for love between people.
p.s. When I see a little girl it brings a smile to my face and brings joy to my heart.... REALLY!!!
Visit my website at www.thepathwaystoempowerment.com
Healing is Rediscovering the Beauty of Life
Cheryl
Sunday, 6 March 2011
Rachel's Gift
The death of my 8 year old Rachel on Dec 2, 1998 was the most devastating experience of my life and she continues to be my greatest gift along with her then 6 year old younger brother Shawn, who is now 19.
When Rachel was pronounced brain dead, I was given the opportunity to donate her organs. Rachel became a poster child for organ donation and I jumped on the bandwagon to promote Organ donation and tell Rachel's story. It was a very healing year which kept me close to her, through her story and I learned that sharing a sad story can provide solace, hope and inspiration to others. I knew then, I had found my purpose in life. To learn to walk in the pain, heal myself and use the experience to help others through loss. And the journey began.
I'm going to start this blog by sharing a story that was published in the "Chicken Soup for the Parents Soul". A friend that my brother Wayne played hockey with, attended the funeral and asked if he could write a story about Rachel and originally I said no, but changed my mind. That story ended up on the front page of the newspaper with a 2 page story on page 4 and 5, won Kevin Hann an award and his editor from the Sunday Sun newspaper encouraged him to send his story to the Chicken Soup for the Soul and it was chosen as the #1 story for the Parent's edition. Rachel's story would touch many.
"You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give".
- Kahlil Gibran
The rousing aroma of freshly brewed coffee washed across Cheryl Parker's face as she settled down at the kitchen table to read her Sunday newspaper. Downstairs shuffled eight-year-old daughter Rachel Davidson, on that crisp November morning, wiping sleep away from her ever sparkling big brown eyes.
As Mom scoured the Sunday Sun headlines, Rachel suddenly noticed and inquired about the front page photograph of a little boy in a hospital bed, hooked up to a myriad of tubes and monitors but braving a smile. Cheryl explained to her only daughter that the boy had been saved by a double lung transplant. Another child had died tragically. But his family had authorized doctors to harvest the vital viable organs for transplant into other children desperately awaiting life saving operations.
"Mommy, I want to do that when I die. I want to donate my organs to save other children" said Rachel, always wise beyond her years.
Rachel lovingly embraced the spirit of giving. Just a few months earlier, when Grandma Audrey Parker shaved her head bald to raise money for cancer research as a show of support for a cancer stricken colleague at the office, Rachel had chipped in her allowance for the cause. One day when her Mom visited the Bank, Rachel quizzed the branch manager about a poster for the United Way, then asked how could she donate her allowance. If there was a food or clothing drive for people less fortunate, Rachel wanted to be part of the effort for sure.
Rachel worshipped God and the Spice Girls, believed in heaven and humor. They called her Rachey, Pumpkin, or Princess.
On the playground at school, Rachel and her pals Kristen, Samantha, Sarah and Haileigh were known as the Spice Girls. Rachel who adored Ginger Spice, dazzled her jazz routines and vocal strains that made her a popular member of their church choir.
A wicked flu bug invaded the school in late November, first to be struck was Rachel's six year old brother, Shawn, who spent a week in bed. He passed it on to Mom. Then came Rachel's turn. But Christmas was drawing near, and she was determined that sickness wouldn't dampen her enthusiasm.
Christmas afterall, was her favorite time of year. She had been thrilled the previous year to play Mary in the church pageant. And was overjoyed, that same year, to unwrap a children's version of the Holy Bible. Cheryl remembered how the Bible facinated her daughter and how she read the book from cover to cover.
Despite a runny nose and mild chest congestion, on a Saturday in late November, Rachel gladly accompanied her Mom and brother to a Christmas party in Toronto and then to the annual Santa Claus Parade in Port Perry. That night she slept over at the home of her grandparents.
"I can't wait to go back to school on Monday" she said excitedly. "My friends will be glad to see me".
The following day, family gathered at Cheryl's to decorate the house, trim the Christmas tree and share the warmth with a cup of thick eggnog. The brightest smile belonged to Rachel.
After dinner, at the table where they'd discussed organ donation a few weeks earlier, Cheryl and Rachel laughed their fool heads off as they coloured silly pictures.
Just before midnight, as Cheryl crept gingerly upstairs, she was drawn aside by a whimper coming from her daughter's bedroom. She rolled back the comforter to find her little girl shivering and her body tense. Figuring she was simply cold, Cheryl climbed in beside her, cradled her head and shared a mother's warmth.
It took Rachel an hour to relax. Two hours later, she ran from her bed to the bathroom and vomited. Cheryl guessed that the nagging flu had returned. There would be no school tomorrow.
Rachel spent Monday at her grandparents' house. Her grandmother noticed the tyke was still feverish and her stomach was hard. When Cheryl returned from work, her Mom suggested they take Rachel to the hospital.
Blood tests taken that night showed Rachel had a low platlet count; a condition usually associated with a virus. Doctors worked to pinpoint the illness. Less than twenty-four hours later, the platelet count plummeted, and Rachel was whisked by paramedics through rush hour traffic to the world renowned Hospital for Sick Children in downtown Toronto.
Rachel only wanted to sleep. Doctors and nurses would check her frequently, but she would again drift off. Physicians warned Cheryl that a dangerously low platelet count might trigger internal haemorrhaging; medication would be required to prevent it.
Suddenly, out of a seemingly deep slumber, Rachel sat straight up in her bed and stared at her Mom. Her pupils were dilated. Cheryl could sense a cry for help coming from within her daughter, but the mind and body were being held hostage by illness. Her left side went weak as if she's suffered a stroke. Her eyes glazed over, she became agitated and her limbs stiffened. She tried to talk, but her mouth wouldn't open.
Cheryl understood: She was crying for Mommy.
Doctors swarmed to her bedside and immediately rushed her to the neurology unit for a CT scan. The tests confirmed bleeding on the brain. Early next morning, Rachel was rushed into the operating room.
It was too late.
The look on the doctor's face told Cheryl everything. Rachel's brain had swollen so much there was no chance to save her. But her gentle heart was still beating like a lion.
An eerie silence enveloped the room where Rachel lay, peacefully draped by banks of modern medical machinery sustaining life in her vital organs.
Cheryl and her family gathered quietly at Rachel's side, and through their tears and heartache, said goodbye.
The angel took flight
Rachel's pledge to donate her organs -- that generous gesture made a few weeks earlier, was communicated to cordinators of the Multiple Organ Retrieval and Exchange. (MORE) program at Sick Children's hospital.
Just a few hours after Rachel was removed from life support systems her heart was used to save the life of a seven year old girl. Doctors flew in from the United States to procure her lungs for a thirteen year old girl who'd undergone a double lung transplant in 1991 but now required new ones. And her corneas opened up a bright new world for two young strangers -- a two year old blinded by surgical complications and an infant born blind with opaque corneas.
In the true spirit of Christmas, which she so richly believed in, Rachel's passing, her third-grade classmates composed a book of memories about the tiny friend who always stuck up for others or went out of her way to share a treat or a laugh with them. Their pure and heart-felt thoughts were framed by sketches of angels. The book was presented to her family.
In their eulogy, her teachers said: "Rachel touched the lives of many in her eight short years. She made us laugh, she made us cry, she made us think, She made us look at ourselves, and she made us accountable. What Rachel represented was giving."
Cheryl shared her own memory: "She just loved to give and give and give, No matter how much she gave, she didn't think it was enough. When she was six years old, Rachel said she wanted to be an angel when she grew up, so she could help people. She was always intrigued by heaven and meeting God. She wondered what she would wear.."
In a classroom at Meadowcrest Public School, there now hangs a star with the words: "I wish that nobody in my family gets sick and dies at a young age."
And, in the school hallway once filled with Rachel's laughter and exuberant spirit, there is a paper cross onto which is sketched Rachel's likeness. It bears the hand-written message: "I will miss you. Good-bye, Rachel."
And may God bless you, Angel Spice.
I hope you enjoyed reading the story.. As the blog continues I will share the journey of myself and others and my hope is that you will follow along and find healing for yourself and others in your life.
Healing is Rediscovering the Beauty of Life
Cheryl
When Rachel was pronounced brain dead, I was given the opportunity to donate her organs. Rachel became a poster child for organ donation and I jumped on the bandwagon to promote Organ donation and tell Rachel's story. It was a very healing year which kept me close to her, through her story and I learned that sharing a sad story can provide solace, hope and inspiration to others. I knew then, I had found my purpose in life. To learn to walk in the pain, heal myself and use the experience to help others through loss. And the journey began.
I'm going to start this blog by sharing a story that was published in the "Chicken Soup for the Parents Soul". A friend that my brother Wayne played hockey with, attended the funeral and asked if he could write a story about Rachel and originally I said no, but changed my mind. That story ended up on the front page of the newspaper with a 2 page story on page 4 and 5, won Kevin Hann an award and his editor from the Sunday Sun newspaper encouraged him to send his story to the Chicken Soup for the Soul and it was chosen as the #1 story for the Parent's edition. Rachel's story would touch many.
"You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give".
- Kahlil Gibran
The rousing aroma of freshly brewed coffee washed across Cheryl Parker's face as she settled down at the kitchen table to read her Sunday newspaper. Downstairs shuffled eight-year-old daughter Rachel Davidson, on that crisp November morning, wiping sleep away from her ever sparkling big brown eyes.
As Mom scoured the Sunday Sun headlines, Rachel suddenly noticed and inquired about the front page photograph of a little boy in a hospital bed, hooked up to a myriad of tubes and monitors but braving a smile. Cheryl explained to her only daughter that the boy had been saved by a double lung transplant. Another child had died tragically. But his family had authorized doctors to harvest the vital viable organs for transplant into other children desperately awaiting life saving operations.
"Mommy, I want to do that when I die. I want to donate my organs to save other children" said Rachel, always wise beyond her years.
Rachel lovingly embraced the spirit of giving. Just a few months earlier, when Grandma Audrey Parker shaved her head bald to raise money for cancer research as a show of support for a cancer stricken colleague at the office, Rachel had chipped in her allowance for the cause. One day when her Mom visited the Bank, Rachel quizzed the branch manager about a poster for the United Way, then asked how could she donate her allowance. If there was a food or clothing drive for people less fortunate, Rachel wanted to be part of the effort for sure.
Rachel worshipped God and the Spice Girls, believed in heaven and humor. They called her Rachey, Pumpkin, or Princess.
On the playground at school, Rachel and her pals Kristen, Samantha, Sarah and Haileigh were known as the Spice Girls. Rachel who adored Ginger Spice, dazzled her jazz routines and vocal strains that made her a popular member of their church choir.
A wicked flu bug invaded the school in late November, first to be struck was Rachel's six year old brother, Shawn, who spent a week in bed. He passed it on to Mom. Then came Rachel's turn. But Christmas was drawing near, and she was determined that sickness wouldn't dampen her enthusiasm.
Christmas afterall, was her favorite time of year. She had been thrilled the previous year to play Mary in the church pageant. And was overjoyed, that same year, to unwrap a children's version of the Holy Bible. Cheryl remembered how the Bible facinated her daughter and how she read the book from cover to cover.
Despite a runny nose and mild chest congestion, on a Saturday in late November, Rachel gladly accompanied her Mom and brother to a Christmas party in Toronto and then to the annual Santa Claus Parade in Port Perry. That night she slept over at the home of her grandparents.
"I can't wait to go back to school on Monday" she said excitedly. "My friends will be glad to see me".
The following day, family gathered at Cheryl's to decorate the house, trim the Christmas tree and share the warmth with a cup of thick eggnog. The brightest smile belonged to Rachel.
After dinner, at the table where they'd discussed organ donation a few weeks earlier, Cheryl and Rachel laughed their fool heads off as they coloured silly pictures.
Just before midnight, as Cheryl crept gingerly upstairs, she was drawn aside by a whimper coming from her daughter's bedroom. She rolled back the comforter to find her little girl shivering and her body tense. Figuring she was simply cold, Cheryl climbed in beside her, cradled her head and shared a mother's warmth.
It took Rachel an hour to relax. Two hours later, she ran from her bed to the bathroom and vomited. Cheryl guessed that the nagging flu had returned. There would be no school tomorrow.
Rachel spent Monday at her grandparents' house. Her grandmother noticed the tyke was still feverish and her stomach was hard. When Cheryl returned from work, her Mom suggested they take Rachel to the hospital.
Blood tests taken that night showed Rachel had a low platlet count; a condition usually associated with a virus. Doctors worked to pinpoint the illness. Less than twenty-four hours later, the platelet count plummeted, and Rachel was whisked by paramedics through rush hour traffic to the world renowned Hospital for Sick Children in downtown Toronto.
Rachel only wanted to sleep. Doctors and nurses would check her frequently, but she would again drift off. Physicians warned Cheryl that a dangerously low platelet count might trigger internal haemorrhaging; medication would be required to prevent it.
Suddenly, out of a seemingly deep slumber, Rachel sat straight up in her bed and stared at her Mom. Her pupils were dilated. Cheryl could sense a cry for help coming from within her daughter, but the mind and body were being held hostage by illness. Her left side went weak as if she's suffered a stroke. Her eyes glazed over, she became agitated and her limbs stiffened. She tried to talk, but her mouth wouldn't open.
Cheryl understood: She was crying for Mommy.
Doctors swarmed to her bedside and immediately rushed her to the neurology unit for a CT scan. The tests confirmed bleeding on the brain. Early next morning, Rachel was rushed into the operating room.
It was too late.
The look on the doctor's face told Cheryl everything. Rachel's brain had swollen so much there was no chance to save her. But her gentle heart was still beating like a lion.
An eerie silence enveloped the room where Rachel lay, peacefully draped by banks of modern medical machinery sustaining life in her vital organs.
Cheryl and her family gathered quietly at Rachel's side, and through their tears and heartache, said goodbye.
The angel took flight
Rachel's pledge to donate her organs -- that generous gesture made a few weeks earlier, was communicated to cordinators of the Multiple Organ Retrieval and Exchange. (MORE) program at Sick Children's hospital.
Just a few hours after Rachel was removed from life support systems her heart was used to save the life of a seven year old girl. Doctors flew in from the United States to procure her lungs for a thirteen year old girl who'd undergone a double lung transplant in 1991 but now required new ones. And her corneas opened up a bright new world for two young strangers -- a two year old blinded by surgical complications and an infant born blind with opaque corneas.
In the true spirit of Christmas, which she so richly believed in, Rachel's passing, her third-grade classmates composed a book of memories about the tiny friend who always stuck up for others or went out of her way to share a treat or a laugh with them. Their pure and heart-felt thoughts were framed by sketches of angels. The book was presented to her family.
In their eulogy, her teachers said: "Rachel touched the lives of many in her eight short years. She made us laugh, she made us cry, she made us think, She made us look at ourselves, and she made us accountable. What Rachel represented was giving."
Cheryl shared her own memory: "She just loved to give and give and give, No matter how much she gave, she didn't think it was enough. When she was six years old, Rachel said she wanted to be an angel when she grew up, so she could help people. She was always intrigued by heaven and meeting God. She wondered what she would wear.."
In a classroom at Meadowcrest Public School, there now hangs a star with the words: "I wish that nobody in my family gets sick and dies at a young age."
And, in the school hallway once filled with Rachel's laughter and exuberant spirit, there is a paper cross onto which is sketched Rachel's likeness. It bears the hand-written message: "I will miss you. Good-bye, Rachel."
And may God bless you, Angel Spice.
I hope you enjoyed reading the story.. As the blog continues I will share the journey of myself and others and my hope is that you will follow along and find healing for yourself and others in your life.
Healing is Rediscovering the Beauty of Life
Cheryl
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