Colours of the Wind

I've been really thinking about my friend RA and her daughter, E., today for some reason. In September 1998, RA took her 8 year old daughter, E., to the doctor to see why the flu bug E. had been fighting would not leave. Turned out that it wasn't the flu. It was leukemia.

E. was admitted to the local children's hospital and began a very aggressive course of treatment. In addition to being a good friend, RA was also a coworker of mine. The building in which we work quickly rallied and organized a food train for the family. Besides E., RA and her husband had two other young kids - E. was their oldest. Ironically, all three of their kids were conceived with assistance from fertility treatments.

This food train was very cool. Twice a week, we would deliver prepared meals to their home. Everyone in the building signed up for a specific day and took responsibility for preparing the family's supper meal, and placing it in disposable containers. I was responsible for delivering 3 days worth of meals on Wednesday, and another friend dropped the other 4 days worth off on Friday. We did this for the full month that E. was in hospital.

They got her to the point where a bone marrow transplant was an option, and her sister, B., was a perfect match. I still remember RA laughing about the special night they got to bring E. home for supper before they were going to be headed to Toronto for the transplant. They were sitting around, eating cake to celebrate, when E. got the most mischevious grin on her face and said to B., "you know...they're going to take the bones out of you and put them in me!" RA said it was killing her to discipline E. for scaring the wits out of her sister, because she was just so overjoyed to see E. having some fun.

Sadly, E. never made it to the transplant. She was readmitted, contracted pneumonia, and died shortly after this dinner of cake and teasing. The whole journey from diagnosis to death took 25 days.

I called RA ~ hardest call I've ever had to make. What do you say to a mother who has just lost her daughter? The daughter that RA, a severe diabetic, had put her life in jeopardy to conceive through fertility treatments, and against all medical advice? I had no words. I pushed the numbers on the phone, it rang, and she answered. We cried. I make the standard offer of help that we all make in these situation ~ you know the one ~ "if there's anything at all that I can do RA, don't hesitate to ask."

She didn't skip a beat. She asked me to sing at the funeral service. I was petrified and honoured at all at once.

I don't read music, so I have to learn everything by ear. Her brother dropped me off a tape with the two songs they wanted, and I spent the next two days driving around in my car, learning these songs. The first was the Circle of Life and the second Colors_of_the_Wind. I learned after the service that these were the two songs E. had playing continuously in her hospital room. I'm glad I didn't know that before the service or I never would have made it.

I stood at the front of the church, watching RA, a child tucked under each arm, rocking and singing right along with me. Proudly honouring the memory of a life cut far too short.

And I sang.

Then I sat and cried for my friend.

She now lives many many miles away in another country, but my heart is singing out to her today ~ through the colours of the wind.