Saying Goodbye

Spending Saturday night with Linda Neu doing an energy session with Francesca was the best thing we could have done for her. We thought we were doing it to help her get well, but I think it helped set her free instead. Up until that evening we had been quite distraught when we went to go see her, which was often several times a day. I'm sure she did not like to see us so upset. But we were also cheering for her, trying to stay as positive and optimistic as possible.

So we spent Saturday night by her bedside, thinking wonderful thoughts about her, sending her positive, healing energy. I imagined her surrounded by white angel wings, lifted up, and she was laughing and giggling. She was surrounded by white light and was so happy. Adam imagined her running around our house, about 2-3 years old, making funny faces at each other. He loves to make people laugh, and we couldn't wait to hear hers. We felt good, calm. It was the first time we hadn't cried while being at her bedside. We felt strong and refreshed, ready to cheer her on in the week ahead. We were positive this was going to turn things around for her. We left in a good mood and gave her "air-kisses."

The next morning, Sunday, Adam felt horrible when he woke up. I think he got the cold I had the week before. I decided to attend a service at the local Unity church by myself. I'd go see her afterwards and try out our new "techniques." Shortly after I arrived home Dad (Grandpa Casey) walked in and said he had spent the last hour or so with her, and she looked terrific. Sure, she was sick, but she was moving around quite a bit, and Dad thoroughly enjoyed his visit with her. He walked me out the door to my car as I was leaving to go see her. That's when the hospital called. Michelle, her bedside nurse, said to come right away. Her heart stopped beating again but there wasn't anything they could do. "What do you mean there isn't anything you can do?!" I shouted. They helped her bounce back before......why couldn't they do it again? I screamed for Adam to get in the car, and the three of us took off for the hospital.

She waited for us. They kept her breathing until we got there, which wasn't 5 minutes later. Her heart rate had dropped to 80 beats or so per minute. As soon as we walked in they ushered us over and said we could hold her as she passed away. I sat down and they handed her to me. They untangled her from most her tubes. One of the nurses had a hand-ventilator and squeezed it while we talked to her. The nurse said they would continue her pain medication until she passed so she would feel good. Adam, Dad, and I kissed her and held her and told her how much we loved her. We were so proud of her. She had fought so hard and was so brave. She had a tiny red bow on her head. It was so appropriate for our little Holly, so close to Christmas. She moved a little bit as we spoke to her. It felt so good to kiss her little warm head and hold her. No one had held her yet since she was born. I feel so good knowing all she felt was love and her parents' arms as she lay down to sleep.

We then gave her back to the nurse who was going to take the remaining tubes off her, bathe her, dress her, and give her back to us. We waited in the chaplain's room while they got her ready. They dressed her in a diaper, a little pink cap, and little pink and white booties, and they wrapped her in a pink receiving blanket. We spent the next two hours holding her, talking to her, and kissing her. It may sound morbid, but it was exactly what we needed. We had so looked forward to her -- her dying didn't diminish our need to hold her at last and tell her everything we'd been dreaming of.

She had dark brown, fuzzy hair that covered the back of her head. We're not sure what color her eyes were as they were so dark when I saw them -- maybe dark brown? Her eyebrows were blond, like mine used to be. She had the most adorable perfect nose, and her tongue stuck out just a little from her mouth. We admired Dad's little feet and toes, so perfect and tiny. She smelled like baby, just like every baby does and was so soft. I wanted to memorize every little inch of her body. I hope I never forget.

Grandpa Joe and Basha arrived late Sunday night, and we took them immediately to the hospital. Yes, she had already passed away, but we wanted them to see her. They held her for about an hour much like we did earlier that day. I think it helped everyone, including Francesca. Now she can see where her daddy gets his bushy eyebrows...... :-D.

I beat myself up for a while because I wished I had spent the entire morning with her instead of going to church. After a few hours I realized it all happened perfectly, and it was exactly what Francesca needed and wanted. She spent a few precious hours with us, her parents, by her side Saturday night, and we surrounded her with love and peace. Adam and I both felt at peace with her and her situation, and we were ready to accept whatever happened, although we were hoping for her to come home to us eventually. She wanted us to see her for the last time while we were together. If I had gone to see her Sunday morning, Adam wouldn't have gone because he was sick, and he would've felt horrible knowing he missed that time with her. She wanted to see her grandpa that morning, so only he stopped by. And they had a good visit together. Dad stopped by our place immediately afterwards, which was also perfect. He lives at the beach which is 20 minutes away, so if he had gone home he wouldn't have gotten to the hospital in time to wish her goodbye. But I believe she knew that and planned it. The three of us surrounded her as she left us, which is exactly what she wanted.

As Adam and I walked out of the hospital one last time Sunday afternoon, we noticed a baby girl's pink sandal sitting by itself on a park bench. We thought that was odd and just smiled at each other. We both think it was Francesca saying hello, she loved us, and that she was okay.