Valentine’s Ghosts

When Sarah and James were growing up, we tried to make every holiday special in some way, regardless of how big or important it really was. February was a fun month to put up Valentine’s Day decorations, make paper hearts and, of course, bake heart shaped brownies and red velvet cupcakes. Beautiful memories that are plagued by the ghosts of Valentine’s Day 2002.  

Sarah was just a few months into middle school and just beginning to find her stride in a new school atmosphere. The school was having a Valentine’s Day dance, and Sarah was excited to spread her wings and have some fun with the new friends she had begun making. She was working on a red shirt and decorating it with beads to make it sparkle, using her BeDazzler – combining her love of crafts and art which to this day are staple programs of the Foundation.  

Sadly, Sarah never finished that shirt, and never made it to her first Valentine’s dance.  

At the end of January, Sarah fell ill with what seemed like an ordinary virus, and her doctor first thought it was strep throat.  I recall how upset Sarah was when we kept her home from school primarily because she had never missed a day, and her first reaction was “if I don’t go to school, I will not get a perfect attendance award when I graduate!”

Despite several medications and multiple rounds of bloodwork Sarah’s condition continued to decline. When her doctor reviewed his last set of bloodwork, he commented that “my machine must be broken, I’m getting very odd readings,” and he sent the bloodwork out to the lab. Later that night, Sarah began experiencing trouble breathing, so we took her to our local pediatric emergency room.   

On February 7, 2002, a date forever engraved in our hearts, Sarah was diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia. That Valentine’s Day she drifted in and out of consciousness not realizing the day, and in retrospect, I think that was a good thing. 

At diagnosis, Sarah presented with a white count of 1.2 million, a number that one of her doctors admitted he had never encountered before. Her leukemia was so aggressive that within an eight-hour period, leukemia cells had infiltrated her lungs so severely the doctors initially thought she had pneumonia. Within the first 24 hours her breathing became so labored she was placed on a BiPap machine (a type of vent used to push air into the lungs). 

 For the next seven and a half weeks Sarah struggled while her health continued to decline. After many rounds of chemotherapy, with no remission in sight, Sarah was prepared for a bone marrow transplant. 

During that February, and the many months that followed, I felt helpless and afraid – a father who couldn’t protect his child. I couldn’t just “kiss it and make it better” – not this, not cancer! I felt sad for Sarah and what she had already begun to miss. I felt sad for James because I’d already seen the fear and anxiety in him and knew how deeply this would affect his life as well.    

Now I look back with melancholy recognizing the impact on their futures, and all the moments, milestones, and experiences that would never be seen.

These memories are the ghosts of Valentine’s Day; a day that has never been the same.  Each memory haunts me as a reminder of what was and what was never meant to be. Valentine’s Day is represented by hearts and symbols of love, so my message to you is this: share your love, especially with your children.  They need to know they are the most important aspect of your life, and we owe it to them to be sure they understand that. 

Our children are a gift, sweeter than the best Valentine’s Day box of chocolate you could ever find, so hug them, kiss them, and let them know they are loved and you appreciate them.  We never know what tomorrow has in store for us, and our future can change in an instant, so make every moment count.