Emilia
02-24-90 - 05-26-00

My first born daughter, a baby sister who was cherished by her big brother immensely.  The world was so proud of her strength and courage, diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia at the age of 2; just short of a year after her Father took his own life.  She suffered internally all those years, living with the same what ifs that we now face in her absence, why? Her why's were very heartbreaking and unimaginable for a young child why did my Daddy leave me and why do I have cancer.  A bright and shining star who made the best of not leading a normal childhood where intermittent relapses would tease her into believing she jumped the hurdle to normalcy.  Ten years, 5 relapses, I waited for a cure, a final lap around the chemotherapy and radiation mile.  Then enters a greedy Doctor with a vendetta against his former colleague, not providing her with the proper break in therapy that her tiny body needed.  A race against time, not because of the cancer, but because insurance only allowed one opportunity for her Doctor to get it right, and he was hell bent on proving himself to upstage a colleague.   He pushed her to the point her heart was literally destroyed, where it was once beating strong, filled with love, compassion, and grace; he turned it black and cold and ultimately, she died with a broken heart; both of my children did.  The irony of the similarity between their deaths, although the facts are very different; were that manipulation, greed, lack of professional compliance, and compassion killed my children, broken hearts were a secondary underlying cause.  Her death spun us into a place of darkness, holidays were forever changed, our hearts bled with sadness until it felt as though we were left as hollow shells with bleeding yet broken hearts.  Our personalities changed, boundaries were crossed, and bad habits formed; hoping we could destroy this demon, known as grief, growing inside us.  We were consumed with it and thrown into challenges we could not control because of it.  Our world was torn apart, our family already strained was now irreparably damaged; our world died with her.  She was my strength, my light, my world, my son lost his best friend.  Several people have said to me over the years, "can't you just find a way to get over it"?  Or "you're not dealing with this very well".  Words that burn into your soul, ravaging you from within, eating away at you.  Not only was I being challenged to not acknowledge the depths of my grief, but also being manipulated into feeling like I was wrong or inhuman for grieving for my beautiful child.  I was left alone for years coming to terms with her death, while my insides churned with carnage and loneliness because I couldn't openly talk about her without looks of pity or "here we go again".  I couldn't help myself; I couldn't help my son, but I had to be strong for my other child at the time, and another one on the way.  Those children, still in their tender years in the midst of hell, suffered right alongside me.  Grief changes you, it eats you up relentlessly, until all you're left with is.... 

INTERNAL CARRION 

which there is no cure for, time offers distance but at times that is the only solace.