In 2006 I lost my beautiful 16 year old daughter. Her name is Christine, but everyone called her Chrissy. She had had a cold over her Christmas break that just seemed to linger. One night in January she came home from her boyfriend’s house with a headache. She went to bed. The next morning she woke up vomiting then had a seizure. She was rushed to hospital. We waited in the emergency room for 2 days as they ran tests (there were no bed available for her anywhere else). She was diagnosed with viral meningitis. We were told that after a few days, she would fine. On the 3rd day she was moved to room, then had another seizure. I’m so grateful I was there or she would have ended up on the floor as it came on while I was walking her to the bathroom. I was with her moment. The hospital was kind enough to let me stay with her around the clock. After her second seizure, Chrissy was moved to ICU. She developed a high fever and the doctors wanted to do an MRI on her brain, but she wouldn’t stay in the tube. She had developed encephalitis. On the fifth day at 5:42 she passed away. My baby, my youngest daughter, died. Just like that, she was gone. I haven’t told her story in years because when so time has passed and I talk about it, people become uncomfortable. But in my mind, in my heart, it feels like it just happened. Sometimes I hear the alarm going off in the ICU and the voice over the loudspeaker saying “code blue” as if it is happening in real time. I have learned my triggers and usually know what’s coming. Through meditation I have found peace in acceptance, but it has taken a while to get here. I miss her everyday and I see beautiful reminders all around me that she was once here. I know this makes her happy...that I found my joy again. It’s how I honor her.
