James

And to everyone I send all my love
and wishes for a New Year full of happiness.

James

Star Light, Star Bright

Over the holidays I thought about what I could write that would be worthy of the end of such a long journey, but in that time I realized the journey is not over, it continues. Each of us will go on living with Alessandra's memory inked on our hearts and minds. We will each in our own way try to live our lives as Danda would have wanted us to...fully.

She taught us all so much about strength, determination and compassion; for she embraced them all. That smile of hers with those dimples and bright eyes, her laugh- it makes me smile as I can still hear it in my mind- this is the memory of her we will carry. Danda loved family and given her international nature surrounded herself with people who became part of her extended family. As we supported her we will continue to support James and Julian in the years ahead because that is what families are for and what she would have wanted. May her star shine brightly in the night's sky and continue to offer us light in our lives. May pink peonies remind us of her many layers and graceful beauty. Her spirit will never fade.

Much Love,

Alexis

A Diamond In The Sky

Dear All,

As my daughter is no longer with us to share in blog dialogue and provide us with her words of courage, wisdom and love, it is time to bring the blog to a close, and I want to once again thank all those who gave Alessandra such love and support throughout her ordeal. A very special thank you to her cousin Alexis who created this blog - Alessandra’s voice. I would like to think that everyone has benefitted from it in one way or another.

Should you glance up at starry skies over Christmas, I am sure you will find Alessandra somewhere in the heavens, and you might just hear James singing his favourite song:

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.”

Wishing you all a joyous Christmas and a New Year overflowing with love and friendship.

Vicki

We are in the process of putting the blog onto a CD so if anyone would like a copy, please let me (vpriorelli@telefonica.net), Alexis (alexisrobinusvi@yahoo.com) or Chiara (chiarapriorelli@yahoo.co.uk) know.

A little goodbye

Dear All,

As Christmas draws near and we've come full circle from the moment our lives changed two years ago, I just wanted to thank everyone for all the words and thoughts and support you showed Danda and all of us throughout this time. This blog stands, quite literally, as the last chapter in her life, and so, as this chapter closes, I wanted to leave you with just a few of my favourite photos from this and other chapters in our life together:

This one taken on a holiday in Mijas, Spain, when Danda was 13. It is so her - her face never really changed, nor that expression, and there I am, this little kid who just loves her to death, always looking up to her.


I took this in the playground at Holland Park, and I remember thinking how beautiful Danda looked that day; and watching her holding James so tenderly, it was the first time I really truly saw her as, not just my sister, but a mother.


This was taken this summer in the Caribbean. Defy anyone to say she looks sick in this photo. The truth may be that here she was riddled with cancer, but this photo merely captures my Danda, 13 again.


And this, perhaps my favourite photo of all time. It hangs on my wall. Taken by my uncle Geoffrey in Santa Barbara, California. Happy happy days. I want to run in a field with her again, run with abandon, run so fast that maybe today's reality won't catch up. But maybe one day, somewhere, there will be a field like this and we can run together again.

I miss you Danda.

Chiara

Turning of the seasons

Hello all,

It has been a while, but I too am guilty of checking the blog often to see if anything new has been posted and to look back and re-read older posts. It was habit for so long it is hard to break the cycle. The blog is still at the top of my favorites list on both my home and work computer so even getting to see the words Doctor Danda daily make me feel comforted and serve as a reminder of my wonderful cousin Alessandra. Everyone who has followed or participated in this blog made it whole- it was worldwide a family, but in all honesty there is a bit of a void or emptiness as I write on this blank page now. Without Alessandra on the other end to receive my words I realize it was created for her and she made it what it was. Without her I admit perhaps it is time to close this chapter of her life. Vicki and I thought that at year's end it might be a good time to put the blog to rest, but I am going to leave it to her as to when she would like to do so and will certainly let everyone know before we decide to. But the good news is all the words and memories are captured as a reminder that we may revisit whenever we like.

I have promised Vicki that we would download and create a book for James of this blog and I will be in touch with Mary, who I believed managed to do it once so I hope can do it again to capture the final words of the blog. I would then be happy to email a copy of it to whomever wishes when the time comes- no need to respond now since we have not captured it all yet. On another note I did want to let everyone know that Vicki and Chiara had the chance to see James recently and there were happy to see that is continues to grow into quite the young boy. I think the pictures she sent along to me speak for themselves.

Much love to all always,
Alexis

Hello! Miss you!

Hi,

How is everyone? I'm missing Alessandra soooooo!! much!! I hear James is doing well and I can't wait to see him sometime soon. He is talking more, going to be starting school in a few weeks. A couple days a week. He loves the yard and riding the tractor with his father. No surprise there! I'm so glad Alex saw some of that when she was with us. I'm not nearly the writer she was but I thought I'd try to give everyone an update like Alex would.

Not to mention I just needed to come back here today.

My thoughts are with each and everyone of you!!!!

Eve

Hi,

I too check this every once in a while just to see if anyone else feels like I do and needs to believe Alex is still around the corner. Especially in the summer which is when we did so much together.

This picture was in Spain 2007. It was the best vacation we ever had! This photo sits on my desk so I can see her smile and just remember her chuckle I love so much.

I was recently in Maine and stopped in to visit Lisa which was so wonderful, even more wonderful was I finally met Alexis our Blog leader, I hope to do it more often. We all do need to keep connected as I know that was always so important to Alex. If anyone is ever in the area please don't hesitate to call and come by.

Feeling a bit blue today and headed over to Franciscan Hospital where Alex worked at one time so not feeling great about it.

Loads of love to you all and hope everyone is having a great summer.

Eve

Staying Connected

Hello All,

I have continued to check the blog. It has become a habit, a part of my day, and a way to feel closer to the journey Alex was on. I love to log on and see her sitting there on the boat, sailing on the water. I miss her desperately and hope that you all are finding ways to stay connected. There are so many times I have imagined her reaction to a funny thought, her encouragement in the face of self doubt, or some words of wisdom when I need it most. I can feel her with me when I make decisions at work, when I have a good day, and especially when I need a friend. I am so glad that I got to know a bigger part of her world through the blog and just wanted to send a quick shout out to those of you checking in once in awhile.

Lisa
lshilley@yahoo.com

Alessandra on the "Alessandra" in her Lance Armstrong t-shirt

On the back of the pamphlet printed for Alessandra's Memorial Service was this photograph and an excerpt from "On Death" by Kahlil Gibran, which I want to share.

"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

Alessandra's Memorial: A remembrance

ALESSANDRA’S MEMORIAL
June 18, 2010

This post was compiled by my mother Lisa, who wanted to share Alessandra's service with all whose lives she touched.

SETTING THE SCENE

For those of you who, in the far-flung corners of the globe, could not attend the Memorial Service for Alessandra, I will attempt to take you there, so that you have some closure. For you have all invested so much positive energy and love in Alexis’s blog and in your emails, letters and calls, sending wishes, hope, cheers, thoughts and comfort to Danda over the last year and a half. It is the very least one could do.

London perfect, a little drizzle falling from the sky, the service took place at St. James Catholic Church. It is an impressive edifice anchored to the corner of a narrow street and sitting cheek to jowl with the very English Durrants Hotel, one of the last hostelries owned by one family for generations.

A few small steps lead to the main entrance of the church, and once, accustomed to the dark, one’s eyes behold the soaring, vaulted space, the stained-glass windows and enough gilt to satisfy, but not cause sticker-shock. It is a user-friendly sanctuary with small chairs instead of pews. It was chosen to honor Alessandra, as it was where she was baptized and where Vicki and Marco were married many years ago. Full circle, if you will. Two huge vases of pale pink peonies graced the steps to the altar – their singular purity and beauty so fitting and reminiscent of Alessandra’s love of simplicity.

Father Christopher Cloven welcomed all, and speaking with a softness that forced us to listen carefully, he sought to convey what his church had to offer as solace. He sought to mitigate unspeakable grief and to ground us in the arms of God’s love. The simple eloquence of his words and prayers was easily embraced by the most fervent believer, and surely provoked thought from those who might waiver and question religion in their own lives.

There was no eulogy, but rather a summation of Alessandra’s place in the universe as evidenced through the tears and memories of family and friends – varied flowers from the bouquet of Danda’s life.


Courageous beyond my wildest imaginings, Vicki, forever Danda’s “Mummy”, rose to speak. Then Lisa Hilley, a Bristol University connection, who flew all the way from California to pay tribute to her best friend. Next, I muddled through, relying on a passage that had resonated with many people on past occasions. Then, Jessica, another Bristol University buddy who flew in from New York. Uncle Geoffrey, supremely capable and in control of his emotions, spoke off the cuff (a synopsis is attached). Then Giovanna, Alessandra’s youngest cousin from Italy, and finally, Chiara, the “little sister” spoke of her enduring love and undiminished connection to Danda even in death.

The musical selections were, quite frankly, glorious, in particular Faure’s Pie Jesu Domine sung by a soprano of exquisite voice and technique. This particular piece is so touching and so ethereal one wants it never to end.

Awash in tears, sprinkled with laughter, we “rose to the occasion”. Each in his or her own way, some drenching their pocket handkerchiefs, others biting their stiff upper lips, we honored Danda. Thence, (I think this a singularly British term), we repaired to the oak-lined bosom of Durrants for a libation. It followed that people who had never met each other became fast friends, shared stories, wept copiously, imbibed too much. Danda would surely have enjoyed the exercise, wine in hand, and nibbling on a piece of chocolate for a jolt.

There is a song in The Sound of Music sung by the nuns, in which they attempt to describe Maria, the young novice. They question “how do you catch a star and pin it down?” They further ask, “how do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

I submit that on the next moonlit night, you hold out your hand and envision Danda. There she will be – smiling. What to do? Smile back. LSC

With love, infinite love, LSC

WORDS SPOKEN AT THE MEMORIAL

****************
A MOTHER’S THOUGHTS FROM VICKI

If Alessandra had the courage to brave what she had to go through for a year and a half, I knew I had to find the courage to stand at this lectern. If I falter, then you’ll forgive me.

Seeing everyone here is certainly a testament to how Alessandra touched the lives of so many. There are friends and family here from as far away as California, the Caribbean, Boston, New York, Copenhagen, Geneva, Rome, and Madrid. I want to thank all of you who gave her such support.

Is there anything worse for a mother and father than losing their child? – it goes against the nature of things. The other day a friend of mine, who lost her mother as a little girl, said that when it happened, her grandmother told her “God just made a mistake. He should have taken me.”

And how hard it is for Julian to have lost his soulmate and mother of their child.

Alessandra and I shared a very special bond. We were always on the same wave length. There were few secrets between us. The silver lining of the last year and a half was that we could be together through the good days and the bad days, in laughter and in tears.

I have been blessed to have had such a beautiful daughter both inside and out and doubly blessed that I have another daughter, Chiara, equally as beautiful. A few days before dying Alessandra looked at her father and said: “Babbo, ascoltame. La tua figlia Chiara e eccessionale (Babbo, listen to me. I want to tell you that your daughter Chiara is exceptional.” Chiara and Alessandra also shared a very special bond, a bond that not all siblings experience, and it gives me comfort knowing how they fought the battle together.

Last month we were all in the Caribbean to attend the wedding of her cousin Alexis. Alessandra was determined to get there and she did. We spent some glorious days sailing on the boat her cousin Chris named after her: The Alessandra.

I would like to read a poem that many of you may know.

I am standing upon the seashore

“A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says: ‘There! She’s gone.’ Gone where? Gone from my sight – that is all. She is just as large in mast and spar as she was when she left my side; and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her; and just at the moment when someone at my side says: ‘There! She’s gone,’ there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: ‘There! She comes!’

And that is how I like to think of Alessandra – sailing off on a long voyage.

****************
WORDS FROM LISA HILLEY

Thoughts About Alex

I have known Alex for 18 years. That is just short of half my life. One of my favourite quotes is that “Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts”. That was Alex. We lived together for two years, and another sixteen were spent hundreds if not thousands of miles apart. It did not seem to matter; she remained a constant support and friend. I feel honoured to share a little bit about my friendship with Alex tonight.

We met in 1992 on her first day of her 2nd year at University, in Bristol. Alex happened to be my next-door neighbour in Clifton Hill House, one of the student dorms. During the first week, most students were excitedly running about meeting new people, finding local pubs, making plans, not Alex. She was busy unpacking her study notes, organizing her room and preparing for classes the next week. I arrived in Bristol and felt like a fish out of water – having grown up only in the SF Bay Area, driving around in a lime-green lime VW bus with my Birkenstocks and casual t-shirts. Alex was standing there in the dormitory kitchen in her ironed buttoned up shirt and long skirt – she had a much better sense of fashion, spoke multiple languages, and had lived all over the world. She quickly introduced herself and made me a cup of tea. We immediately found common ground on the study of psychology, our love of family, sisterhood, and of course cheese, bread, and chocolate. And so that is where it began for me, in the kitchen of Clifton Hill House. I am now convinced that all good things happen over a cup of tea.

Alex was serious and intense about her studies. She was driven and focused and excelled on every paper, project, and exam. I was living with Alex during her 3rd year project, which she chose to do on stuttering. She did not do anything halfway and wanted desperately to understand what makes people stutter. Perhaps motivated by her own experience as a little girl, but she also had an unusual curiosity about things and the discipline to give 150%. So, Alex set up an entire laboratory in her bedroom and recruited human research participants. Although I admired her persistence and passion, living with Alex during this time was nuts. She made me test out her machine with recorded voices using these enormous earphones so many times; I thought I would develop my own stutter. Alex had a very unique way of studying – that is, she would pace around her room and hum very loudly. I could hear her all the way in the basement and it always made me smile. Alex was smart, dedicated, and committed to whatever she took on. In short, Alex was brilliant. I was so proud of her when she obtained some of the highest marks for any student at the University of Bristol.

As you all know, there were other sides to Alex. She was humble, warm, thoughtful, loyal and fun. We shared some late nights out, movies, weekends away, crazy roommate stories, but mostly we talked and laughed over cups of tea. We often went ice-skating on Wednesday afternoons and she made me dinner more evenings than not. I can still smell the homemade pasta sauce and chocolate cakes. Alex was generous and kind – she put people first and always gave more than she was willing to take. At the end of our 2nd year together, we had been studying for weeks for exams. My room was a disaster with the usual clothes, coffee mugs, papers and books covering the floor. When I came back from my last exam there was a sign on the door that said “Congratulations, You Did It”. When I went inside, Alex had cleaned up every last piece of paper, vacuumed up all the crumbs, folded the clothes and left an amazing cake on my desk. The thing is, it was Alex’s last exam too.

We made a pact to stay in touch after Bristol. So when we both ended up on the East Coast for graduate school, she visited me in Baltimore, Miami, and Cincinnati. I made the trek to Boston as much as graduate school finances would allow. We met up in Philadelphia and New York City to be with our dear friend Jess. Those were great visits. We shared the challenges of graduate school and finding our way in life. She found her place in the field of psychology conducting neuropsychological evaluations with children. I have no doubt she was able to impact the children and families with whom she worked.

Alex and Julian were finally married and returned to London. There had been a significant period of silence, life was busy and chaotic, Alex was pregnant and in the process of setting up her Evaluation Centre, which was taking off like crazy. She was so proud that all the hard work was resulting in something so significant. So, when I got the call near Christmas time, I expected to catch up on the trials and tribulations of starting your own business, juggling kids and work, and the usual updates about family. I did not anticipate the news of a diagnosis. She told me very sternly that day “Lisa, I know that you will start reading and asking questions, but I do not want to know the statistics, I do not want you to say anything about the odds, I just want to live”. And so she did.

I think it was her aunt who quoted Thomas Carlyle on the blog saying “Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak”. Alex demonstrated the strongest of souls. She lived fully and she lived well. I always loved the poster that hung on her bedroom wall for years: “Live Gently and With Fire”. Perhaps that describes Alex best. Her humility and gentleness combined with her talent, drive, and determination made her the best of the best.

Over the past few weeks, I have been reliving those thousand cups of tea, the long chats. What she talked about most was her family and friends. She had an amazing respect for and appreciation of family. She so deeply loved her parents; her Italian and American roots were such a part of her identity. She talked often of her grandmothers with respect and awe, trips to the Caribbean and Maine where she felt so at home, her visits with her Uncle Geoffrey to California. I was always struck by the strong connection she had with her mother. I would be very fortunate if my daughters talk about me with even half the affection she talked about Vicki.

She always lit up when she talked about Chiara. I remember the first time I met Chiara, I think she was about sixteen and came during a school break. Alex took very seriously her role as big sister – she referred to Chiara as “Pickle Head” he entire week, made sure she studied, ate well and got plenty of sleep. I remember giving Alex a hard time and saying – you know she is sixteen, but Alex was a caretaker at heart. I was waiting for this big rebellion or fight, but the two seemed to have a way of being together and interacting that just worked. Over time, Alex would describe Chiara as her most solid supporter and friend. Chiara became the person she turned to in moments of doubt, fear, and anxiety. Chiara was honest and direct and could ease Alex’s worries within seconds. During my last visit with Alex, she told me that Chiara could get her to do the things she did not think she could do. I witnessed firsthand that Chiara’s very presence gave Alex courage, strength and confidence to maintain hope and live in the moment.

Alex sure talked about Julian. What a journey and what a love story. Julian made her laugh and step out of her shell. She repeatedly told me the story of an evening back in Bristol when Julian took her to the movies. Nobody else happened to be in the theatre and he got up on the stage and danced. Alex loved Julian and she loved him how he loved her. It was obvious in her words and in her actions and her commitment to their relationship. Alex struggled over the years to figure out where she most belonged, where she would call home. During a conversation just before she got married, she was clear that her home would be wherever Julian was. And so it was.

I was standing in my kitchen the other night and on my refrigerator is a definition of Faith. It says “Faith is to breath the flower in every seed, to see a star in every drop of dew, and to await the promise of a rainbow despite the cloud”. I have struggled to find the rainbow in all of this? But I think the rainbow is in her family and friends – who will live better and be better because of Alex. The rainbow is in the children and families she helped – especially those parents who will have a more hopeful perspective of their own children. Perhaps the rainbow is most in James – who is part of Alex. Alex often wrote and spoke about the unexplainable, amazing, and deep love she felt for James. I am confident that she will be his guardian angel throughout his life.

I am grateful that the stars aligned for me – that I happened to arrive in a place 6000 miles away at the very time Alex was standing there in the kitchen of Clifton Hill House just as the kettle was brewing. Timing is everything. In closing, and to Alex – I will think of you whenever I drive by a country house – the kind you always dreamed about. I will think of you when I ice skate and get the giggles so hard I cannot stop. I will think of you every time I have a cup of tea. Thank you for being one of those friends who come into my life and leave footprints on my heart.

****************
RELFECTIONS FROM AUNT LISA

Good evening –

I am Alessandra’s aunt, and I represent her American cousins from “across the pond”, as well as my late husband whose love and admiration for Alessandra knew no bounds. In fact, he and Danda are probably looking down on these proceedings, switching channels between this and the World Cup.

Alessandra was an amazing edition of humanity – elegant of line, keen of intellect, brimming with purpose, commitment, courage and abundant love – an ideal package, beautifully wrapped and tied with the ribbons of God’s Grace.

Ethicist, Michael Joseph has penned the following which, I think, offers pause for thought and sums up the very essence of Alessandra.

“Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end. There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear. So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on in the end. It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant. Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured? What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your success but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught. What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage, or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example. What will matter is not your competence but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you are gone. What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what. Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident. It is not a matter of circumstance, but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters.”

Suffice to say, Alessandra did just that, and did it to perfection.

****************

MEMORIES FROM JESSICA PEREZ

Hello, I’m Jessica and I have also known Alex for 18 years. Lisa Hilley introduced us. I would like to share a short anecdote, which I believe highlights a side of Alex not seen by many.Alex and I had just seen The Saint and we both fell in love with Val Kilmer. (I’m sorry Julian, before you there was Val Kilmer and before Val there was Ralph Fiennes, but we all know she made the best choice in the end.) One of my favorite possessions is a binder Alex sent to me describing her whirlwind romance with Val. It was detailed and full of tabloid jargon and here are some of my favorite quotes from it:

“We met at the Children’s Hospital in London where I was working as an intern.”

“Realizing the time, I began to make the extra bed, but it got stuck under the railing of my twin size set-up…”

“Val and I grew close to Tom Cruise and his wife Nicole, but sadly we no longer see them because of a much publicized quarrel between the two men.”

“My move to New Mexico remains a distinct possibility…” Alex was creative, had a wonderful imagination and a great sense of humor. These on top of all of her other attributes made her an amazing and inspiring person and one of the greatest friends I will ever have.

****************
WARM THOUGHTS FROM UNCLE GEOFFREY

When Danda moved to Boston, her aunt and I bought her a little second-hand car so
she would have some mobility and it would allow her to get out of Boston and up to Maine. When I delivered the car to her, I did think to ask her if she knew how to drive. “Well, of course I do” was her reply. Nevertheless, it seemed prudent to go for a test drive before handing it over, so off we went. She was cautious, to say the least. Hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, we stopped 20 feet short of every stop sign and when making a right hand turn we certainly occupied the left hand lane for longer than we should have. But after about 45 minutes I felt that she was solid enough to get around the local streets. At that point, I suggested that we get out on the highway. Well, the hands gripped the wheel even tighter and she
was sweating bullets. Once on the road, she asked how she was doing. I told her that I was not concerned about her hitting anything but was more concerned that a truck would end up in the back seat unless she sped up. I then remembered that as a child, Alessandra hated going fast in a car. But, by sheer will power she increased the speed and I felt she would be a safe driver, certainly not a reckless one.

The next time I drove with her, it was I holding on for dear life and suggesting that she slow down. She had become a speed demon!

That was the way Alessandra approached life. She had to study the situation, process it, weigh all the factors, and then proceed, knowing full well that she had looked at all sides of the issue at hand. Once committed, she threw herself totally into what she chose to love and honor and that is no more obvious than in her love for Julian and for James and for her family. Her honesty and passion for life, once she accepted it, could be seen in that smile, that wonderful, beautiful smile, which is what I will always see in my mind....that beautiful face with that beautiful smile......

****************
WORDS FROM COUSIN GIOVANNA

I grew up with Alessandra—not literally, because we lived in different countries, but our two families used to spend summers in Sardinia or Christmases in Rome or Madrid together. Alessandra was always happy to be with all of us, and she always seemed to be at ease with so many people around.

The thing that always impressed me about Alessandra was her positive attitude toward life. I remember that once—we were maybe 14 or 15—when we met for a Christmas, she was reading a novel that she had been assigned in school. She hated it because the author had a bleak and depressing view of life. She told me instead that her philosophy was that life was to be lived to the full. “People should get out of their shell and grab the good that comes their way,” she said, “instead of whine about all the negative things that can and do happen!”.

Alessandra always maintained her positive attitude throughout her life, even during her last year. We all read her posts on the blog, and we saw how she always focused on the silver linings of what was happening to her, how she liked to end her posts on a positive note, or add a line or a photo that would make all of us, and herself, smile. Her determined optimism, her eagerness to live life fully, and her ability to find the positive in all situations are traits that, at least in my eyes, defined her character the best. If there is one thing I learned from Alessandra is that one should always try and keep looking for the positive in life, and I cherish this lesson.

****************
AND EVER-SO-LOVINGLY FROM CHIARA

This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write, and for a moment I contemplated not speaking today, because how could I explain what Danda meant to me. How could I possibly convey the history, all the memories, moments, conversations, the smallest details – all these little pieces – that made my sister who she was, and made our bond such a close one.
I can pick a tiny fraction of these pieces:
The way she’d call me just to say
Goodnight
The way, even as two grown women, she’d still reach for my hand, in that protective big sister way, when we’d cross a busy road
The way we’d shoot each other a look in that knowing manner that said “I’m thinking exactly what you’re thinking.”

The way she comforted me when I needed to be comforted
Helped me when I couldn’t do it on my own
Talked me through things when my mind was confused
Championed me when I needed a boost

No matter how I was feeling, she would make everything ok.
I watch little James hold his comfort blanket, and I realise now that Danda was mine.

To feel that kind of closeness – where you know you can tell each other everything – truly anything – to feel that loved, to feel so protected and at the same time respected…that is truly something.

I recognize that I am so lucky to have had this bond for 32 years. But I wanted her for at least 32 years more. I used to worry about how short life was – always thinking about what I should be doing, seeing, achieving, as time seemed to rush by.
Now, without my sister, my life seems so very, very long. So I won’t pretend that I don’t feel an unfathomable loss.
But within this, there is, without a doubt, a sense of overwhelming pride – even more so now, knowing what an impact she made on so many others too – that this incredible person was my sister.

She will always be my Danda
And I will always be her Picklehead.
I know that I’ll still look for her hand when I cross the road
And I’ll ask her to listen when I need her most
I will say Goodnight to her at night, every night

I’ve always thought music can capture such depth and breathe of emotion – it can comfort, motivate, inspire. So I will say this - that Danda is my music, and for as long as I live, I know it will accompany me – lifting me up, driving me forward, making me sing.

Thank you for the silver linings

Thank you Sally, for the glowing and detailed account of Alessandra's memorial service. I wish I could have been there with all of you, and this was the next best thing. I am sure that she is chuckling away at all the compliments, and blowing them off in true Alessandra style!

Speaking of silver linings, the other day I found a silver picture frame with a photo of the two of us on the Duraton field trip, 1990 - talk about vintage. This goodbye present, and a note in cheeky yet heartfelt Alessandra style, giving me her regrets and also her blessings as I left the school and moved into research in the US. The final sentence in the note was 'don't give up teaching altogether'. I didn't, and after all those years re-reading that wise little note again confirmed what all of the blogs have underlined. A very special person, Alessandra, unforgettable.

Celebrating Alessandra

Dear all,

I am not sure who, if anyone, is still reading this blog. But, just in case there is at least one person out there who was not able to attend Alessandra´s memorial but would have liked to be there…I write. So, what to say and how to sum it all up? I guess that would be impossible to do, so I´ll simply say that, notwithstanding the deep sadness of the occasion, it was a beautiful ceremony. It was moving, heartfelt and personal with some of her closest loved ones taking turns to share funny and heart-rending memories, tears and humour. In essence, it was a tribute to all that Danda was and has left behind…so, so, sooooooo much!!! Vicki and Chiara were particularly courageous fighting back their tears and trembling voices, and honouring Danda through their touching words. Aunt Lisa and Uncle Geoffrey made us laugh with their funny anecdotes, and made us feel even more admiration for a person already so admired. Another Lisa, a very dear friend of Danda´s who came all the way from California, also shared a heart-warming account of how she met Alex 18 years ago and of all that she had meant to her. More friends and family spoke, and the underlying message was always the same…Danda´s capacity to give, to make things matter, to make people feel special were unique traits that have accompanied her since she was a child.

I remember that when I heard the news of Danda´s passing away, amidst the heartbreaking sadness, I felt anger, an obstinate resistance to this new reality, a rejection towards what, unfortunately, there is no turning back from. I could not understand how a life so beautiful and promising, both personally and professionally, how a person so exceptional and with so much to give could have her future stolen. Danda´s memorial gently transformed this view showing me the other side of the coin, the full part of the glass instead of the empty one, the silver lining of this incomprehensible loss…The memorial was a touching, emotion-filled celebration of Alessandra and all that she had managed to give, share and inspire in her short life. There are so many people who live twice her age and whose lives are not even half as rich, generous or meaningful as hers! As I listened to one homage after another, amidst tears, smiles and laughter (for those who loved her were faithful to her love of humour!), I suddenly realized the magnitude of Danda´s impact on people. I know she had always impacted me, I had always been in admiration of her since we were at school...and I know of countless other people at Runnymede College who felt the same. But at her memorial, I realized that her impact was just as powerful on those who had the luck to know her well as on those who met her for just a few moments. With everyone, she left more than a beautiful memory. She touched people, reached their hearts delicately and unobtrusively, uplifted their souls, and lit their days with her smile and kindness. Her presence was as gentle as it was powerful, her smile as graceful as it was generous, her mind as open as it was sharp, her heart as noble as it was strong.

Some say “è scritto nelle stelle” (it´s written in the stars), others say life (and death) is a lottery, others find spiritual or religious meanings. Whatever it may be, I think we´ll never really know the answer whilst we´re on this earth. Maybe the hardest (and most important) lesson in life is Acceptance, for it is only through acceptance that we relieve burdens we feel we cannot bear. I guess the best we can do is pay tribute every day of our lives to beautiful Alessandra, striving to make our lives MATTER as much as hers did and to give even an ounce of what she gave. Her Uncle Geoffrey summarized Danda perfectly: “she was always ready to GIVE more than she would take.” May her loved ones find the strength and courage to “overcome” this loss and may we all keep honouring Danda´s memory and soul by smiling with our expressions and our hearts every time we come across one of Life´s wonderful miracles, however small and insignificant they may seem…

With much love to all those who have shared this voyage, Sally

Dear James,

When you get to read this you will probably not know of me. I have written just once on this blog. My name is Elena and had been Alessandra's colleague for about a year and a half at her wonderful clinical practice in London. I met Alessandra when she was 7 months pregnant with you. I would see her almost every day at work and often outside work. So, I only knew her for a year, but what a year: The happiest year of her life, because of you. And the most difficult year of her life. They say you really get to know someone in their hard times... I have quite come to believe that, although I had known her for only a brief time, I got to know a big part of who she really was as a professional, a mother, a woman, and a person.

I met your mother through a friend of hers who had recommended contacting her when I had just completed my PhD in Oxford, and was looking for a job in London and some advice by someone who could understand my professional background and aspirations ( Like her, I had also been trained in the US). She was keen to meet me and during our first conversation which was very helpful, she asked me if I could help her with a family she was working with (April 2008). I was happy to do so, and to make the long story short, what started as a one-time collaboration resulted in the most memorable partnership. Alessandra invited me to collaborate with her and for 14 months I got to share her cozy office, and work side by side with who I believe was one of the most kind, professional, sharp, thoughtful and creative psychologists that I have met in my life. You see, I have studied at Columbia University and Oxford University and have been exposed to some of the best courses currently available. But what I have come to learn, is that no textbooks, no training courses and no doctoral certificates, teach you how to connect with a child and his/her family in a way that is human and caring; in the same way that one would respond to his own child or family. That is how she was with the children and families that we worked with.

You also need to know how happy she was that year despite all obstacles. She would bring you in the office with a big smile in her face and that smile was there all the time. She observed you so proudly and talked to everyone about you. She was really, really happy. And although so often I would sense the same enthusiasm in her voice when she answered the phone to Julian with the typical "hi amor", I believe even he must have been feeling a bit jealous of you during that year!

What I thought was remarkable in all the time I knew her, was the authentic kindness towards everyone around her, despite the dark forces that could have threatened her purest spirit. With everything she had on her plate, she still genuinely expressed how happy she was for us when regular positive things happened in our lives and never ceased to care for everyone close to her. I will not forget a time when I was visiting London- sometime after I had moved back to the US ( Nov 2009)- when she called me to ask if she could reschedule our catching up time because she had to go to the hospital. Her words were along these lines: “Hi Elena. I am so sorry for having to change the day of our getting together. I know you are visiting for just a few days and must be so busy, but my appointment for some blood work was changed and need to go to the hospital during the time we were supposed to meet-can we meet another time? !!". The funny thing is...that she meant it in the kindest way that I heard it. This is who she was to everyone, at a time when she had every reason to hate the world.

Lastly, I want to disclose to you something she told me one time in the hospital when she was admitted after a complication of a chemo therapy. You were just a few months old. She was confessing to me how surreal her diagnosis was feeling to her and she became a bit emotional because she considered her self to be ‘healthy’. She went on to explain that her doctor had told her that the cancer was possibly masked by the pregnancy symptoms and therefore could have not been detected during her pregnancy. Suddenly, her facial expression changed all together, and with a real smile starting to form, she said: “You know what? Even if there was a way to detect it earlier, I would have never given up having James. James is my greatest gift". I will not forget the tone of her voice nor her look at that moment. You had been the source of real happiness, happiness that is not easily found in life.

Putting it all together, I remember your mother as a truly healthy and happy woman.

Our bodies might get injured, our bodies might get sick, but her mind and her soul were perhaps the healthiest mind and soul I have come to know.

Like everyone who thinks this way, I feel extremely privileged to have met Alessandra and to have been her colleague and friend.

Vicky, thank you for being such a wonderful parent. Alessandra must have received so much love in life to be able to give that much back to everyone...

Julian, thank you for making Alessandra smile the way I picture her when she answered you phone calls.

Chiara and Alexis, and everyone on the blog, thank you for creating this special blog.

Love,

Elena

Dear Danda,

you and my fellow bloggers may consider me naive and immature (hopefully, not disrespectful) for still wanting to write you one last blog entry, but I guess we all have our own ways of going through pain and dealing with the incomprehensible losses of life. I thank Chiara for her heartfelt message to all of us, for her amazing strength and serenity in sharing the devastating news. I thank Vicki for sharing that beautiful, unforgettable smile of yours with us one last time. I thank James for making me giggle with him notwithstanding my tears as I re-watched his recent videos. I thank cousin Alexis for giving us all the opportunity to fill Danda´s last year with an endless outpour of love and admiration through this blog she created. I thank all the bloggers (and all who sent her those touching e-mails she always mentioned) for making this such an enriching and meaningful year. It has been an honour to be part of Danda´s incredible marathon of strength, determination, gentleness, grace and love! I also thank Julie for sharing that beautiful, comforting poem which is so true...a reminder that, as the physical beings we are, we are still are so attached to things our "spiritual friends" are beyond. In many ways, the poem reflects what I felt when I witnessed my father´s last breath a year and a half ago. I knew he was no longer in his body but I felt his presence stronger than ever. He was wrapping me, lifting me, showing me the existence of another dimension ("la dimensione cosmica" as he loved to call it!) which I had never felt so strongly. The struggle came after, when at times I doubted the existence of this other dimension and could not connect with my father as he had promised me I would be able to. With time, I learned to trust in this different type of connecting, and I have discovered what my father so often had explained. When loved ones leave this earth, their presence can become all the stronger and more potent as if, in some unobtrusive and delicate way, they were always watching over us, always listening and willing to comfort us. It´s hard to feel this now with you, Danda, as I am still in a mix of disbelief and tears. My heart goes out to Vicki, Chiara, Marco, little James and Julian. I wish I could do something to soothe the pain, and yet I know now is a time of acceptance of all that comes and goes. As you taught us, carissima Danda, we should be open with our feelings. We should not give into them but yes let them flow, for it is only this way that they can end up flowing out of us. I also wonder what words you are whispering to all of us, those words our tears are preventing us from hearing. I miss you soooooo much and can´t bear to think of the pain your loved ones and closest friends must be going through. I´ve been quiet lately on the blog, traveling like crazy and with big changes in my life, but serene knowing that you had been at Alexis´ wedding as your dear mother had told me last time I saw her in Madrid. I continued praying for you every night and was hoping that the "no news" on your blog was "good news". Not much left to say now, except this crazy idea that I want to make myself a mega-healthy Danda-salad for dinner! I remember taking the photo of that wonderful salad you made for us on one of my visits (the one your Mum put up on this blog), and so this will be my very humble way of honouring you. Dear Vicki, Chiara and Marco, I will be there next Friday. Please tell me if you need anything from Madrid, if I can be of help in any way, and if there´s any specific way you would want us to pay tribute to Danda´s beautiful person and admirable life. Love you, Danda, and thanks for all you´ve taught and inspired in me. You will be with all of us forever, I know...

rememberances

Alexis -
I am writing this to you as the founder of this amazing blog. First, thank you so much for the effort you put into this, not only to get it set up, but to write so creatively and vigourously in the beginning to get the momentum rolling. You have no idea what a gift this blog has been to someone like me -- a loving friend who was too far away not only from Alex, but from all the other people who share my love of her. Thank you. I am eager to find a way to archive Alex's letters from the blog, but have not yet had the opportunity to do it. It's a little bit complicated because of the way the older posts get organized and displayed in chunks. Anyway...I find myself feeling anxious that the blog might disappear...an extension of the loss of Alex...before I can spend the time with it that I want to spend. I hope that you might leave this space active for a long while, and post a warning before access is lost. My anxiety about this is testament to how powerful and important this blog has been for me. Again, thank you. - Lindsay

poem

Dear Friends,

I am similarly overwhelmed and devastated by the tragic news of Alex's death...even as I write, it seems unreal...

In times of great sadness such as this, I tend to seek poetry to help manage the pain, so I am posting a poem in hopes that it may help some of you....

"Do not stand at my grave and weep"

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand by my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand by my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
-Mary Frye (1932)

All my love to Vicki, Chiara , Julian, James and all the family. My deepest sympathy and hope for healing goes out to you.

Love, Julie

Memorial Service

For anyone who wishes to attend, there will be a Memorial Service
held for Alessandra on Friday, June 18th, at 7:00 in the evening at:

St James's Roman Catholic Church
Spanish Place
22 George Street
London
W1U 3QY

If you need to contact me for whatever reason, my email is vpriorelli@telefonica.net. and mobile no. +44 7758594845.

Love to all,

Vicki

Golden girl and silver linings

To Danda's family and everyone who contributed to the blog: I can only echo the beautiful sentiments that have been shared on the blog since we learned that Alessandra had died. I think of her as our golden girl, as she shone so brightly over the course of her illness and shared it so honestly with us and gave us so much inspiration and made us feel so grateful for every day in a new way. The creation of the blog was such a wonderful gift from Alexis to her dearest cousin and to all of us: I, for one, got to know Danda in a way I never imagined and she will always be a presence in my life; I feel connected to all of you who were part of the blog and to Vicki, Marco, Chiara and Julian, and maybe most of all to sweet baby James whose presence was her daily tonic even through the worst moments. Please help me know what the best way to honor her memory and all her good works would be.
Stay safe and well and as loving as you have been for so many months, troopers, cheerleaders, and wise counselors.

I am heart broken. Part of me wishes I could rewind the clock five hours, to before I read of Alex' death, and live for a little while longer wondering how she is doing, wondering when I would see her, wondering when I would hear her voice. I am flooded with memories of times with her, and I wish for more. In fact, I'm flooded with images of the times I want to have with her, still. My love and sorrow pour out to you, Vicki, Chiara, James, Julian, Alexis, and everyone who loved Alex so. I feel like I need a pep talk from Alex to find my way through the pain. What would she say? What did she teach me? I think I will be digesting that question for a long time, but I'll take a first crack at it right now to cope with this night. She taught me...True grace and courage means feeling this pain fully, and communicating it honestly and vulnerably, without letting it drowned out the beauty, the wonder, the humor, the hope, the vitality, the simplicity, and the love around me. She taught me about true mindful living, and I will try to live that in her death. I know how lucky I am to have had her in my life. And I know she is still present. Alex had the gift of being able to sense spiritual dimensions of existence, and she had experiences that prove to me that our spirits live on and are present for our loved ones. I hope you all can feel her. I know she is there. With love - Lindsay

Family

Dear Vicki and family of bloggers,

I was very, very sorry to learn of Alessandra's passing. The entries on the blog are a testimony to the wonderful impact she had on so many people, long before as well as during her battle with illness. It is also an affirmation of how powerful friendship is. I treasure what I have learned from all of you, from Alessandra as an adult rather than the 17 year old I taught, and from her beloved family and friends. While I may never meet many of you in person, I would like to thank you all for enriching this community with your words and thoughts. Alessandra, I know you'll watch over us, as always. Much love xxx

Thank you, Alexis

for this incredible space. You gave Alessandra such an incredible gift over the past 15 months, and in turn you gave this gift to all of us. Just the love alone on this blog has forever changed my life perspective. And Alessandra leaves a legacy to inspire us all in her writings. I was blessed to have the privelege to know her and will forever be touched at the opportunity you gave us to be with her in her last year. I will miss you all.

My Dear Sweet Friend!

I feel so blessed to have had such a wonderful visit in February with Alex. The gods shined down upon us and gave us a week full of smiles, laughter, and long talks. As we celebrate the wonder of our dear sweet Alex, I wanted to share some photos of moments that I cherish and hold close to my heart during these difficult days!

a smile to remember

This photo of Danda was taken after a week in the islands. Alexis had just arrived and we were in the midst of a family reunion. Happy times .

I am so very grateful to all the bloggers and the followers who gave Alessandra such a morale boost during the difficult moments.

With love, Vicki

Horizons

Dedicated to Danda- once we were young and had not a care in the world as we stared out to the horizon and pondered our next steps. Without knowing one day we would wed and what bliss it would bring us. Danda's smile exudes this happiness on her wedding day as did mine, made only sweeter by the fact that she was there to share it with me and my family. I was blessed to have her in the islands once again and will forever have her with me as I look out to the horizon.

Alexis

Recent happy days aboard ALESSANDRA. James looks very much like a captain-in-training. Heave, ho and off we go to sail the Seven Seas!

To The Troops

Last night, at 2.30am, Danda left us.
She was so happy to have been able to go to St Thomas, and even though she spent many days in bed resting or sleeping, and sometimes in pain, she had lovely days too. She got to watch James play in the sand and sea for the time, see Alexis get married, sail on the Alessandra and sit on the beach at Magen´s Bay. By the end of the holiday though she was in a lot of discomfort and we knew the cancer had taken a renewed and aggressive hold, particularly in her liver.
She was admitted to Cromwell Hospital Sunday night, just a day after we got back, and we´ve been with her there for the last ten days. They kept her comfortable and pain-free, and she never lost her fighting spirit or humour even though we knew she was well aware things weren´t looking good. She was put on a morphine drip so had her lucid and non-lucid moments, progressively less conscious the last few days. It was very fast. On Sunday we brought James to the hospital and she was up and talking and watching him play on the hospital roof terrace. Two days later we were told she would probably not make it through the night. We were all with her. She fought so hard, she was so tired, and finally she had to let go. So many nurses came to see her, visibly upset. Some had avoided coming to see her as they said it was too hard. Her doctor, Adam, told her she'd been an inspiration to the entire staff. One of her wonderful nurses Paul gave us a hug before leaving and said it had been a privilege to care for her.
It still doesn't seem real - that I no longer have my big sister with me. But so it is, and I just wanted to thank you all for this wonderful blog. It meant so much to her and gave her such strength, an outlet for her thoughts. If there is one good thing to have come out of this is that she got to know just how much she was loved by everyone.
I never wrote on the blog - a little superstitious thing perhaps, keeping all my focus on her. But now I just want to thank you, thank you, thank you, and that I´m so sorry she's not the one posting the latest message.
x
Chiara

Hi there,

Congratulations to the newlyweds, hello to the London travelers who made it all the way across the Atlantic, and hello to everyone who opens this blog to check how Alessandra is doing. I haven't heard news in the past week, so I don't know if the trip to the Caribbeans is nearing its end. I heard that you, Panda, still had some pains despite the pain killers, but I am sure you had a great time, in wonderful weather and, what is better, wonderful company. I hope all of you are having a great trip and you will always cherish it in your memory.

Here the rain stopped, at last, after weeks of pouring, and I picked up the bike again, but without regularity. Panda, I miss your voice and your Lance Armstrong-like attitude!

Hugs!

To Alexis!!

Hi,
Sending you all my best to you and your family for a wonderful wedding!!!
I can't wait for the pictures. I'm sure you are all having a great time and Chiara and Anthony probably have James at the beach every day!!
I'm so happy Alex is able to have this time with you all, which is so deserved and needed.
I'll see her in June and can't wait to to see her wonderful tan!!!
Alexis have a wonderful day and wonderful honeymoon. We all look forward to the pictures.
All our love to you on your wedding day!!!
Eve

Great to hear the update, Alexis. Thank you. I'm so happy for both you and Alex about her plans to attend your wedding. I'd love to hear more about the clinical trial when someone has time to write about it. I know everyone is tapped right now. Like Julie, I think often about a trip to London. I would love to make it happen. For the friends who have managed visits already, I ask: does it make sense to try to coordinate with Alex and her family about timing, or is it better to make plans independently?
Lots of love - Lindsay

We're with you

Alexis, thank you for the update! I'm so thrilled that Alex is going to your wedding (which I'm sure will be beautiful!), and I'm over the moon that Alex will be in the trial!!! YAY!!!!!!! That's fabulous news!
Alex, I think of you daily and have toyed with a trip to London to see you. It's a crazy time with my 2.5 month old and going back to work soon - but, I love you and I'd love to see you in person and give you a huge hug....we'll see. At this point, I think realistically I'll have to wait a bit for my babe to age....
But, we are with you all the time, and we hope you feel our love. Big kisses from Laurel (or more like slobber that you need to pretend is a kiss) and much love,
-Julie

Best Wishes!!

Here's wishing you all a great wedding and reunion, and lots and lots of warm wishes from Philadelphia. I'll be thinking of you all and wishing I was there to join in!! Thanks so much for the update. Hugs and xxxx

can i post on Danda's behalf?

Dear troops,

In last speaking with Danda she told me that she had been feeling overwhelmed as a result of her back pain and the radiation as well as trying to meet with doctors and get into the clinical trial. Understandable to say the least. So I thought since I had spoken with her I would take the chance to play secretary for a day until she found some time to write something on the blog. I may be taking a leap of faith that she will understand my jumping in, but I have been wanting to share the good news and perhaps publishing it would mean it was real.

So not to steal her thunder, but rather share in it, she called to tell me that she and the Priorelli/Murdoch clan had booked tickets to the islands. YIPEEEEEE! She told me that no cancer, volcano or any other hurdle was going to keep her from coming. This was HER time! She had her sights set on this day and nothing was going to keep her from the vacation she so deserved. I am over the moon about the news and cannot wait to see my cousin and her entire family. This is the best wedding gift I can imagine. Having her present will be so joyous!

On top of it she got into a clinical trial, but told them she could not start until after the 14th and they obliged. More good news!

She was still experiencing back pain and was told it would not subside until early next week after the radiation had a chance to do its thing. She was give morphine pills to help with the pain so I pray that has been working, but may be leading to her taking some down time.

Well, there are the basics that I think will help everyone feel in touch. Danda, I was just bursting and wanted to share my happiness I hope it is all still true and I have not reported anything wrongly, but perhaps this posting will lessen the anxiety to fill everyone in on the latest news and provide you with a little more down time until are able get back on the blog. Today marks the five day count down until you will be on a plane to the islands and their warm waters!

Much Love,
Lex

Hi Panda,

The blog has been quiet lately... and so have I, letting work and a flu get the better of me for a few days. I've been checking the blog regularly though, and every time I saw Alexis' title to her latest post Cocoons spawn butterflies I imagined you spring up from under your blankets, with grace and a light step, no pain or trouble, a smile on your face and your arms extended towards James asking, "So, what do we do today?". Like a butterfly. (I keep up the visualization exercises).

I hope that by now pains and the need for cocooning are gone, or at least are less intense. How did the adventure of the clinical trial go in the end? I hope you made it in, but I also hope the schedule is such that you can go to S. Thomas for the wedding.

Here not much is new. Spring has finally arrived and the valley has become green and beautiful. A couple of weeks ago I saw the cherry trees in bloom, but the apple trees were only tentatively budding. By now they are probably full of leaves and flowers. As you can understand by my disinformation on the status of plants and flowers around here I've not been biking as much this season... yet. It will happen, I've just had a slow start :)

A big hug.

contact

Just sending love to you, Alex, and to all the troops. Feeling too far away...
- Lindsay

cocoons spawn butterflies!

You are a trooper! I am without words of wisdom because this is a journey that is truly your own. You are fighting this thing as best you can and it seems there are still so many unexpected hurdles. If you can stay strong and think positive thoughts you will triumph if only because you never let it get the best of you. When one is in pain it is nearly impossible to do so, but perhaps deep down you can find some strength to endure. I surely hope that by now you have managed to get your hands on some heavier pain meds. Is this a side effect of the last chemo cycle still? In the modern days of medicine there is no excuse for pain so I dearly hope you have been taken to hospital to demand something more.

As for the clinical trial I pray that you get in as it will be another piece of artillery against the cancer. Of course, you being you, are worried about missing my wedding. That shows you have not lost your inner self in all of this! You know the drill-you’ve been down that aisle before so to speak! Your wanting to be there is as good for me as you being there. But there are also the islands that you wanted to get to. They are pinned to the ocean floor so they are not going anywhere! You will come when the time is right. It takes merely a plane ticket, straw hat and bathing suit to make it happen.

YOU are all of our priorities and getting you well is of the highest! I am rooting for you in California. I think of you daily and wish I could be there to hold you and stroke your forehead. Think of all of us surrounding you and caring for you in those painful moments because perhaps that will ease the pain if just a little.

Danda, I love you and am glad to hear that your love for James and clearly is love for you make you smile. You deserve all the smiles he gives you. Hugs to you, Julian and James-I pray I see you all soon to give you a warm embrace.

I recently went to Palm Springs with some girlfriends for the weekend and what a hoot of a place. Stuck in the 50’s! Something about that warm desert air really appealed to me. Ironically I arrived back Monday and immediately caught a cold. Perhaps too much rest? Too much fresh air? Is there such a thing? The funniest part was thinking of Uncle Geoffrey (now nicknamed Rev. G. For Reverend Geoffrey! ) arriving in Palm Springs on motorcycle after his trek cross country and wondering what he must have thought about the desert and it s palms after all his years back east and in the Caribbean? We will have to ask him to tell us about it some time. Or perhaps you already know- you are the historian of the family! Just a funny thing for you to think about!

Much Love,
Alexis

Pink Warrior

My dear friend,

I am so sorry to hear that you are having a difficult time. I heard a song the other day that I think you would like. Maybe it will empower you when you are feeling down. I was introduced to it through the website for the Susan G. Komen walk I am doing. It is called, "Pink Warrior". I particularly like the following verse.

Got an army of angels marchin around with her

She won't give in

Yeah she's gonna win

She's a pink warrior!

You my friend definately have an army of people that are with you through this fight, every step of the way and this is one army that will never retreat. You can find this song on itunes or probably youtube. It is called Pink Warrior by Candy Coburn.

So, to our very own Pink Warrior, you are stronger than you know. I love you and miss you so much. xxoo.

Mary

Waiting and Cocooning.

Dear All,

Another long silence from me... a reflection that I have had a difficult stretch where, more than ever, I seem to cocoon myself away, hoping that things will be better when I poke my head out.

Julian and I went to see the consultant, Dr. Slevin, that had been recommended to us by Dr. Plowman, on April 1st. A soft-spoken man, he briefly covered my history, reviewed the documents that Dr. Plowman had sent him, and conducted a clinical exam. He confirmed that while my breast appears to be almost clear of the tumor, the metastasis remain the areas of concern, especially my liver. As the next step forward, he advised trying to get me onto one of two clinical trials that are being run in London for women with my specific type of cancer and profile. He said that I was a very good candidate given how physically fit I was. So, we were told that we would hear back last week... but nothing.... we are hoping to be told this week. This limbo has been awful - days pass by and you feel as if your life is "on hold". Also because this dictates whether or not I will be able to be at Alexis' wedding or go to the Carribean at all. (The thought of not being there with/for her breaks my heart - I have been looking forward to this for so long and it means so much to me to be there). We all have our fingers and toes crossed that, whatever happens, it will be the best thing for me and my recovery.

So, as I wait to be told of the next turn in this marathon road, I have focused on trying to get my body strong - I have not had chemo in 5 weeks, and it has been almost 3 weeks since the scans. Unfortunately the flu really knocked me down, and I can honestly say that only know have I begun to feel "clear" of it.

The worst bit of the past two weeks, however, has been the pain. I am now on daily, heavy pain meds, and the aches and shooting cramps are enough to take my breath away. They appear at the strangest of times, in different places, and they can escalate within minutes. Two nights ago, I woke up at 5:00am and was a mess. I would have done anything for a shot of morphine the pain was so excruciating. Hot packs add little comfort in those moments, but I always try whatever may help. So, I have spent days feeling miserable and very tearful, curled up in a ball wanting to "sleep it off", only to find the pain waiting for me when I wake up. This has really been an awful period for me. Admittedly, my morale and mindset have taken a beating.

But on a happy note ( there is always one!) James has been a sweetheart - he is so aware of my emotions, and such a wonderful combination of playful enthusiasm and cuddle comfort. He has been imitating more and more words, and is incredibly vocal in his expressions. Easter morning, he was introduced to chocolate (in the form of little smarties) and he was ecstatic - "Mmmmmm, Mama, Mmmmmmmm! We had a cosy day together, and a brief walk in the park, and lots of play time at home.

I have attached a video of James at my parents' house, looking a some ladybugs on the window sill (Note: he did not injure any of them with the doorstop he was holding in his hand!). I just love his innocent excitement. I just love all of him!

Hugs to all.

Pink gloves and Easter blessings

Danda and family,
I hope you are having a gorgeous, happy day with spring flowers and a brimming basket of eggs for James and whatever else goes on for Easter Sunday in London. Rabbits are gamboling in our sunny yard but alas no children--all spending Easter elsewhere. However, we can't complain as we just spent five fun-filled days in San Diego with the two Seattle grandchildren and their parents and we will be with the three others within the next five days.
Loved the pink glove dance that Lolilla sent you! I hope everyone whom you see at the doctors' offices and in hospital when you have to go there is as spirited and full of hope as those folks! Very affirming.
I hope today your back and every other part of you is pain free. Ditto tomorrow.
Love to you and to all those who surround you and to all your troops around the globe, constantly awed at your forthrightness and grit and soul.