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