My husband and I lost our daughter Ellie, several years ago. Previously, we had been told that we couldn't have any children, unless we used fertility treatment. We conceived twins in 2002 by using IVF. When the twins were 2, we found out we were pregnant on our own, but this miracle was not to be. Ellie was born very early and very sick. She lived only for 5 days, but those 5 days changed our family forever.

After her death, we drew support from our family. Also, our priest, Father Fred Tinsley was of great comfort to us. He baptized her, and was with us when she took her last breath. My husband's co-workers were also supportive as she passed. I will never forget what Father Fred said to Bob and I as we left the church, watching Ellie's sweet, tiny pink casket placed in the hearse: "Look at all the people that have come to support you."

But then people's lives move forward, and we were left with inconceivable pain that won't go away. Grieving the loss of a child is not just excruciatingly painful, but it is also a very lonely experience as well. I chose to be angry and lash out at others. It was not fair that she died, and I was left without her. In December of 2006, I was having an especially difficult period. I was speaking to a friend in Lafayette, who had lost her son in May of that year. She was going to a candlelight vigil for persons who had lost children. I got online and searched for something similar in Alexandria, and found no similar commemoration.

I did, however, find the Angel of Hope, based upon the New York Times bestseller, The Christmas Box Angel. These monuments bring many grieving parents together in their local communities around the country to honor their loss. I immediately ordered my copy of The Christmas Box Angel. After reading this short story, it became my quest to bring an Angel memorial to Central Louisiana, to bring comfort and support to parents in pain that have lost a child. As I read the book, I knew this is what I needed to do, not only for Ellie's memory, but also for every parent who has to live through the horrific tragedy of losing a child.

The pain of losing a child is unbearable, and it doesn't matter if the child is a newly conceived fetus or a 40-year-old son or daughter. You do not know until you experience such loss, how many people there are who are in the same situation. I wanted to give Central Louisiana a place to come together to grieve and remember together.

I was not sure how to get started. I have never and would never have dreamed that I would attempt something like this. A friend who lost twin babies 6 weeks after Ellie died asked me,"Where would you put the Angel?" I called Father Fred for guidance and help. He is a wonderful priest and such a good person. As I told him the story, he immediately told me that he wanted to be involved to help get this accomplished. He brought the idea to the Vestry of St. James Episcopal Church. It was at this point that the excitement grew.

The cemetery committee for Mount Olivet agreed to donate the land for the site. This hallowed ground is important, because it is amongst the oldest burial sites of the ancestors of the community in several cemeteries of several different faiths. Death of children finds every religion. We have had so many different faiths give us comfort, and many pastors and religions prayed with us and even attended Ellie's funeral. This ranged from the Christians of many varieties, Jewish and Muslim friends who expressed comfort, and to the blessed cloistered Carmelite Sisters in Lafayette who prayed for us. I wanted to make sure this was a nondenominational monument on hallowed ground, where all families that have lost children or have been touched by the loss could come and commemorate their loved one.I also feel that this Angel of Hope will give those who do not have a gravesite to visit, a place to call their own.

When Ellie died, my husband and I wanted to do something to honor her memory. We set up a permanently endowed fund at the Central Louisiana Community Foundation (CLCF) in Ellie's name, not knowing what the purpose would be. Only later did we decide that the Angel of Hope would be an object of this support. The CLCF can accept donations in a tax-free manner to accept and disperse funds to pay for the memorial initially and for the expected ongoing upkeep.

At the base of the Angel of Hope will be a courtyard of engraved paver stones that may be engraved with the name of the child, dates, and a short message. These stones will be placed and set permanently at the base of the statue of the Angel of Hope. The donation will be tax deductible, made to the CLCF, and directed through the Ellie Schroeder Charitable Fund (CLCFESCF) to the project. These donations can be donated to support the memorial directly and to purchase individual commemorative bricks as well. Those interested can contact me at pam@angelofhopela.com.

There are so many parents out there who feel they are alone in their grief. We've even spoken to persons in their advanced years, who lost children even 50 to 60 years ago, who still feel the pain of their loss like it was yesterday. This memorial will be a place where the community can come together and honor these lost loved ones together. We will have a dedication ceremony once the Angel is in place. Every December 6th at 7 p.m., here and nationally at the nearly 100 of these Angel of Hope memorials, a candlelight vigil will be held to honor our precious children.

There are so many parents out there grieving, and I wanted them to know that they are not alone. Although all our situations are different and unique, we have all been touched by the loss of child. My wish is that this Angel will bring Central Louisiana together to remember our children and give us hope for the future.

Dianne Cynthia Duvall Milliner was my 40 year old daughter and only child who died from breast cancer September 5, 1997 at 5 p.m. (This was the same day that Mother Theresa died).

She was the daughter I had always dreamed of having. She was funny, bright, cheerful, loving and thoughtful. She had many friends who miss her yet. She left behind a wonderful 14-year old son and a loving husband.

She was an avid reader and became engrossed in Richard Paul Evans books - especially, "The Christmas Box". She was diagnosed with breast cancer in November 1993. She gave me "The Christmas Box" as a gift sometime after that. I read it and re-read it and shared it with others. The book has become a major link in my memories of her insight as to the pain her family would suffer in her passing. I have always felt that there was something more to be done to help all of us come to terms with our grief . When I read the newspaper article about the Schroeders and the "Angel of Hope" statue plans it was as if the heavens opened up with the revelation that this was IT!

Not only was this to be the "Angel of Hope" in the book she had given me, but the statue was to be located at Mt. Olivet in Pineville where her first memories of attending church were as a young child.

Being enthusiastic, I contacted friends who shared my grief in the loss of a child and they in turn were comforted being able to express this grief in a positive way by doing something in this child's honor. One, who's child's birthday is December 6th , will always have a special ceremony to honor this child. Another, had lost their child less than 2 years ago, was overjoyed at this project. It also drew us closer together.

As for me, I experienced a peace that had escaped me for the last 10 years. After the December 6th unveiling of the statue, Christmas was happier and my world just seemed brighter and the future more hopeful.

The idea seemed to originally be for those who had lost a tiny baby. It must be understood that even though this child is 40 years old this is still your baby and will always be in your heart.

My family will be forever grateful to Richard Paul Evans for his gift of the story "The Christmas Box" and to the Schroeders for their part in getting the statue to our area so that grieving parents have a place to honor their "angels" and thereby retain hope for the future.

Donzal Langston
Proud Mother of a "Special Angel"

Our oldest child David was 19 years old when he had his first seizure. He did not have another one until he was in his 20’s and that is when we found out that he had a brain tumor. We searched the web and the world for the best surgeons for his kind of tumor and found the surgeon in Memphis, Tennessee. David breezed through the surgery and did so well he was able to come home less than a week later. After that, we had 8 more years to enjoy David and he lived as normal a life as possible. He held a job, fell in love several times and lived in his own apartment. The last 3 years were not as quality years but David was able to be a groomsman in his little sister’s wedding in May 2005. He died 3 months later on August 20th, 2005.

He had two requests and we were able to grant those. The first one was NO HOSPITAL! We had hospice and they were a God-send to us. His second request was that he suffer no pain. We made sure of that one, too. His sister Julie and I were by his side when he died and he opened his eyes and really looked at us and smiled the most beautiful smile. We were able to tell him we loved him one more time. Then, with the help of his brother Wesley and brother-in-law Aaron and his father, Wayne, he was gently bathed and lovingly dressed in his scout leader uniform. One of his passions in life was scouts.
There were over 800 people at the funeral and it lasted almost two hours. It was a joyous celebration of David’s life. The choir and people sang his favorite songs, and then we asked specific people who knew him and loved him to speak and talk about their good (and sometimes funny) memories. Many of the speakers were boy scouts or former boy scouts. We were determined to celebrate and we were able to do that much for our son with a beautiful service.

He was 32 years young when he died and he left behind a heart broken family including his 8 year old daughter Zoë.

The good news is that Zoë is very much a joyful part of our lives, and of our healing. She is now 11 years old, and we get her each weekend for a visit and she spends the night. We tell her all the “David Stories” we can remember. We haven’t watched many videos yet but we are beginning to feel the need for that connection as we approach the 3 year anniversary of his Angel Day.

The Angel of Hope has been a wonderful and peaceful place to visit and pray. I was thrilled with the location since my Mom is buried almost right across the street. We will be there every year on December 6th, and are grateful for the opportunity to commemorate the holiday season in this way.

We belong to a community support group that I began many years ago when I knew I would one day need it. The Bereaved Parents meet once a month and we share our memories, our stories and our children with each other. We have the Alexandria Zoo’s Butterfly Garden to place memorial bricks with our child’s names and dates. It is a beautiful place for anyone, but especially for grieving parents. We plant butterfly plants and maintain the area each spring.

We know in our hearts that we did not lose David. Nothing loved is ever lost. That love continues and is stronger now than ever. On the stone where David is buried, we engraved these words, “If you remember me, I will live.” We will always remember our David.

Sincerely,
Becky Watkins

 

Garrett Patrick Thompson

I am a donor’s mother and I’d love to tell you our story…

            Garrett was a vibrant 6-year-old boy, filled with energy and bright as the sun. He was quite a charmer with twinkling blue eyes, a freckly nose, and big ol’ dimples. He loved cars of any kind: fancy, tricked-out cars, fast race cars, or big monster trucks. As most moms of 6-year-old boys, I was exhausted by the end of a day of trying to keep up with Garrett and his brother, Avery. And the summer of 2007 was full of fun and activity for our family.

            We are a year-round sports family. It’s football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and baseball the summer. In 2007, Garrett played his second year of tee-ball. With an October birthday, Garrett was always the oldest and biggest in his age group. Needless to say, he could wallop a baseball. We were all so excited when he made All-Stars that summer. His team ended up coming in runners-up in their tournament.

Mid-summer brought our church’s vacation Bible school, of which I was the director. It was a busy, fun-filled week spent learning about God’s love for us. On the last day, our family was at the church early, preparing for the evening. Garrett and his little brother, Avery, were playing when Garrett fell and was injured. Such a trooper, Garrett finished out the evening. As he prepared for bed, it became obvious something was wrong.

We took Garrett to the emergency room and things did not look good. The next day, the pediatric intensivist confirmed the grim prognosis. He suggested we consider donating Garrett’s organs. Tests confirmed brain death and I jumped at the chance to have something good come out of such a painful situation.

My husband, Patrick, and I decided to donate Garrett’s heart, liver, and kidneys, which ended up helping four children. But, after that, it became my mission to help spread donation awareness. Patrick and I both agreed that, had we known more before we were faced with the decision at such a difficult time, we would have chosen to help more.

On July 29, 2007, Garrett became a hero. His organs were recovered and transplanted into young bodies that needed them. His donation continues to give us comfort on the bad days. And, though we have yet to meet any recipients, I know there are grateful families who won’t have to endure the same heartache we did.

There is no doubt that “G” touched many people in his brief stay on Earth, as was evidenced by the outpouring of love and concern we received from the community. He continues to live on in the hearts of those who knew him and in the lives of those who received his precious gift. 

 

Heart Aches and Living With Grief Within Your Heart
By Evie Gremillion

To say that my Jack’s life changed my own just seems so inadequate.  Jack was born with a rare syndrome called “Noonan’s syndrome” which is a condition often associated with congenital heart disease and short stature.  Along with that, Jack’s life was complicated by a congenital heart disease consisting of aortic and pulmonary stenosis, ASD, VSD, and an atrial ectopic tachycardia.  He also had a rare lung disease known as pulmonary lypmhangiectasia which meant that his lymph vessels were dilated and filled with lymph fluid causing Jack to constantly have “wet lungs.”  In his four and a half years, Jack had open heart surgeries, three heart catherizations, stomach surgeries, procedures to tap his lungs to release some of the fluid, plus many hospitalizations in between.  He survived on a feeding tube his entire life, he was on oxygen, a heart monitor when he slept at night, and was on many different heart medications that he had to take every four hours around the clock. 

When Jack was born he had to overcome many trials.  When he was born the doctors said that they were unsure if he would make it and they questioned his quality of life.  Some doctors were unsure of what to think of Jack; the truth is that they were scared of him and his condition.  Luckily, Jack had a wonderful pediatrician who did not believe in giving up, and when I was uncomfortable with what a specialist told me, he made sure Jack got the chance that he deserved.  We were transferred to Texas Children’s Hospital by the time Jack was a year old and we were introduced to a wonderful team of specialists who never gave up on Jack.  Very quickly I learned that never giving up on Jack was one quality the doctors at Texas Children’s and I both had in common.  Even though Jack was delayed developmentally and had a very complicated heart and lung disease, we still found a way to make our life joyful.  We played, we laughed, and we watched “Spongebob Squarepants” every single day.  Jack was happy with his life because he did not know that he was “different.”  In fact the first thing I learned when Jack was born was that there was no such thing as “normal,” and I loved being able to appreciate that about our life.  I also learned to take nothing in life for granted.

Jack got very sick very quickly.  He caught RSV and down spiraled rapidly, and ended up on life support and dialysis.  His body became septic with an infection that found its way to his heart.  Due to his heart and lung diseases he had an extremely weakened immune system, and my worst nightmare came to fruition on Valentine’s Day when after many attempts to revive him, Jack died in my arms after suffering from a heart attack.

Losing Jack seems like an impossible grief, and I didn’t think that I was capable of handling it at the time.  Losing any child is the greatest of all disasters and tragedies, and can become almost paralyzing to the human body.  Jack was my world and to find life in this world without him in it seems hopeless.  I have learned that grief can make your whole world seem disoriented, and full of anxiety and despair, and make it very hard to find any semblance of peace or relaxation.  For myself, I was thrown into grief so fast that I did not know what hit me.  I felt completely lifeless, just drifting through the phases of death and life trying to keep it all together.  Even after going through the stages of grief, I am still having a hard time accepting the reality of living in this world without Jack physically in it with me.  The next step is to tolerate the emptiness by succumbing to grief.  It is trying to let go of the numbness that has taken over my entire body and my emotions, and try to just live my life and find myself.  It is very difficult, because I was happy with my old life with Jack in it.  His leaving me and my family wasn’t our choice, so it is very hard to surrender to a new form of life when you are forced into it.  What is undeniable about my love for Jack is that the strength of death itself cannot even weaken our bond.  So through this tragic experience, I have learned that I will carry Jack with me through my love and I will continue to grow from all of our experiences and memories.