The story continues

The one thing that helps me cope with Melodina's death more than anything else is the fact that she inspired so many in her short life. She continues to inspire and I enjoy sharing some of these stories with you.

I told you in my last posting that a Nurse from Sick Kids was running in the Olympic Torch Relay with a picture [see below] that Melodina drew in her pocket. Here is what the nurse wrote to us about the experience. "All of the torch bearers had a chance to say something before we began running and I spoke of how this was a dream of mine and to inspire my children to go for their dreams. And then I spoke of Melodina and her dream to go to the Olympics. Not a dry eye on the bus. I still get emotional typing about it."

I feel that Melodina's story needs to be told. Her life was truly inspirational. Even in death she is somehow able to help motivate and encourage people. It is an awesome feeling and I am inspired by all who use her story in their own lives and share it with others.

Thank you all

Thank you everyone who has expressed your understanding of the strange and difficult time this season presents to us. Your thoughts and prayers are appreciated. It is hard to even think about going through Christmas and New Years without Melodina. Never the less there are many things to be thankful for, not the least being friends and acquaintances who are so very thoughtful and supportive.

We have received cards and e-mails from friends. Many of these had flowers or some other pretty picture on the front. At first I thought it was strange that there were so few that were the standard "Christmas Card". Two days ago I opened up a card that might explain why. A Jewish family we are friends with sent a card with a beautiful photograph of a rose on the front - not so strange as you would not expect a Christmas card from people who celebrate Hannaka. Inside, however was a note that, to us that might explain why It expressed kindness and compassion and I wanted to share it with the readers of this blog. "We did not know whether you are ready for Christmas Cards, so we decided to let you know that we are thinking about you and that our hearts are with you..."

If you know someone who is suffering, for whatever reason , something present or from memories of the past, perhaps you can take the time to let them know you are thinking of them. It means a lot.

Another person sent us a card - picture of tulips this time - to let us know she was thinking about us. It was from a doctor from Sick Kids, who had treated Melodina early on in her ordeal and again a couple of years later. She praised Melodina and complimented us. Her memories which she shared brought tears to my eyes and I wanted to share some of her words with you. "...What a tragic loss to your family and also to the world in general who is really missing out on not having Melodina any more... Thank you for the impact you have had on me personally and professionally." Thank you Doctor. You are important in our lives too.

The other story I wish to share with you is about a nurse from Sick Kids. She sent me an e-mail today. This nurse is running in the Olympic Torch Relay tomorrow. Melodina had drawn the design above. It is the Lymphoma Cancer ribbon with an alpine ski racer and the word Courage - a key word in Melodina's philosophy and her approach to life. The Nurse wanted to know if she could print out a copy of the ribbon to carry with her on the run. She wrote "...I cannot show anything on the outside of what they gave me to wear but it will be in my pocket and Mel in my heart. I hope you are all doing well and we think of you lots at the hospital."

I am grateful to each of you and so may other well wishers the world over. Have a wonderful season. May you enjoy your love and find peace. In Melodina's spirit I wish each of you strength and courage.

The Holiday Season

The holiday season is upon us; people are inviting us to parties and wishing us the best. Indira and I are trying to do a little decorating of the house - not because we're celebrating but because we both think we should. Last year Melodina was in the ICU over Christmas and New Years and on to her death. Both Indira and I lived at the hospital, one sleeping in a chair by her bed while the other curled up with other ICU parents on the benches in the waiting room. This is how we remember the holidays. I don't remember which day was Christmas or New Years, I only remember the minutes, hours and days as we sat our watch, hoping Melodina would recouver, knowing she might die.


Indira tried to go for councelling a couple of months after Melodina died. It was difficult to access at first. The Hospital for Sick Children had given us a package that included grief councelling information. Perfect if you live in Toronto. To us it seemed just cold and unfeeling. They gave us information that was useless to us. It was done with the best intentions of beaurocrats trying to help. Nothing personal. Nothing caring. Just send out the package without thought or feelings and congratulate yourself for doing your job. It hurt.


Eventually friends pointed Indira to a service in Orangeville, only 25 minutes away. She called. A very nice councellor came to the house. It was helping. At least Indira said it was helping and that is the best way to know. Right from the beginning she was told that it was expected that she would got to Orangeville for group councelling sessions soon. After five sessions at home, two a week, the councellor told Indira she couldn't come to the house any more. She couldn't provide individual councelling any more. Indira had to go to the group sessions or not recieve help.


The group sessions proved difficult right from the start. The problem is that when your child dies - even if you have other wonderful children and grandchildren as we do - even if you hold life as a sacred blessing, as we do - you still wonder why you are alive. You don't see any purpose to live and you sometimes wish you were dead. Every parent we know who has lost a child would have died so our children could live, if that were possible.

The group Indira went to was populated, understandably, by suicidal suicidal women. Some had attempted to take their own lives several times. The discussion wasn't around the children and how wonderful they were - it was around possible suicide. Indira was scared. These women were talking about things that were to close to her own emotions; they were talking about killing themselves and it terrified Indira. She came home depressed and angrier than she had been for some time. Indira couldn't talk to me about it. I felt helpless to help with a situation I did not understand. That councelling session, which I had not attended, was hard on both of us. That was the end of councelling.


Back to the holidays. Each day is a reminder that the one who loved giving the most, the one who loved family the most and the one who got the most joy out of others' happiness is not here this year. There is a large gap in what we think of as the holidays. We are trying. We have others in the family who are important. It just can never be the same when your youngest child suffered and died. We are trying to keep the spiritual side of the holidays. The idea of being grateful. We will get through it for the grandchildren but quite frankly I would much rather spent both Christmas and New Years alone meditating and reflecting. So be it.

Please don't tell us you understand because your grandmother had cancer and died. This is totally different. Please don't tell me we have too much attachment. The loss of a child is like the loss of an arm. You may learn to live without it but it is still gone. Please done tell us that time will heal. Like the amputated arm time does not heal. Some things are just like that. Whatever the cause, there is a loss that cannot be replaced and most cannot understand. Let us do the best we can. Support us with your love, not your with understanding, which is inadiquate. Thank you.

Am I bitter, sometimes, but not often. The reality is I am trying to live in a world that is completely new to me, a world where the light is dim and the rewards are few. Still I am grateful for my life and I look to understand life's lessons as they come to whatever extent I can. I sincerely wish everyone a wonderful holiday season. Mostly I wish that each of you can face the pain and suffering that you have and still smile. I know we all suffer. I hope that you can see the beauty of nature and our fellow human beings and enjoy the spirit of love while appreciating the blessings, past and present, in your lives. Whatever your religion, whatever your beliefs, I wish you peace and good will.