Ashleigh's Baby

In my last post I wrote about Ashleigh and Christopher. This post is about Ashleigh, and Christopher's baby sister Tara.

At the time of Christopher's death he was Alan and Marivic's only child. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for them to be to be left alone as a couple. Our situation was much different, when Ashleigh passed away we still had three sons we needed to take care of. We still had the "noise" of children in our home as well as the responsibilities and obligations that come with having children.

Now, it is extremely important to understand that one child can not replace the loss of another. But empty arms can be filled with the love of another. It was the best news to receive when a few months following Christopher's death, Alan and Marivic announced that they were expecting a baby.

On the day of Tara's birth, Ashleigh was half-way through her series of radiation treatments (story still to come). Ashleigh and I waited patiently at the hospital for the baby's arrival, and were two of the first to meet her when Alan brought her from the delivery room. She was a beautiful baby girl, and a precious gift not only to Alan and Marivic... but to all of us. It was so good to see them with a child in their arms again.


Ashleigh of course, was the youngest child in our family. Many of her little friends had younger siblings, including her best friend Morgan. Since Ashleigh didn't have a baby in her family, she began to refer to Tara as her baby. Just as we had tended Christopher, we also tended Tara. On the days that Tara came to our house Ashleigh got to play "big sister", and she truly enjoyed it. When her little friends talked of their "babies" Ashleigh would say, "my baby is Tara."

In those final months of Ashleigh's life, when we knew that the tumor was growing, she slowly began to lose a lot of her abilities... things like walking, and eating, and talking; just to name a few. When her speech was affected it became slow and slurred, until the time came that she couldn't speak at all.

But before that time came, we did plenty of talking and singing and laughing as I lay in her bed with her night after night. One of our favorite songs to sing was A Happy Family. Every night we would sing:

I love Ashleigh; she loves me
we love daddy, yes siree;
He loves us, and so you see,
we are a happy family.

It was a song that lasted a long time, because we sang a verse for daddy and each of her boys, and her Granpa's and Granma's and every aunt, uncle and cousin in the Marsden and Leger families. When we sang "...we love Tara, yes siree..." Ashleigh would always chime in with "my baby is Tara" with her slow and slurred speech. To this day I love to sing that song quietly into the ears of my grandbabies, and in the car with the pre-school grandchildren as we go on "Grandma Days". We always sing "...we love Ashleigh, yes siree..." and we know that she loves us, and that she loves Tara, and all of the rest of our family.

Twenty years is a long time ago. So many memories that I have... and so many that I wish I could recall. I don't know what the last words Ashleigh said to me actually were. But I can tell you that the last words I remember hearing her say, were... "my baby is Tara."

Love you Tara.

Ashleigh and Christopher

If this picture was featured in my "Classics and Favorites" series on my other blog... hands down it is a classic. Alan and I often traded baby-sitting. He took this picture while I attended the temple one morning. I love the expressions on their faces. What were they thinking? I LOVE them!!!

A few days ago while preparing dinner I was listening to the weather report on the news. Our winter has been unusually warm and on this particular day... February 7, it looked and felt like a beautiful spring day outside. As I listened to the news, my mind suddenly went back twenty-two years ago to February 7, 1990. It was my nephew Christopher's third birthday. But Christopher wasn't with us that day... he had passed away just eight weeks and one day earlier.

Christopher's passing was sudden, unexpected, and a shock to all of our family. I found out that day, in a very real way, that a broken heart was an actual physical pain. I couldn't even begin to comprehend how my brother and sister-in-law felt.

On this "first" birthday after Christopher's passing, the weather was much different than what I previously described. It snowed, and snowed all day long. It was winter at it's finest. Nonetheless, I felt a deep desire to go and visit the cemetery, so I drove up the mountain and parked the car. The snow was very deep on the hillside and still falling heavily from the sky. Through the years, there have been many times that we have waded through deep snow to find our little ones graves. The cemetery is a cold and lonely place on a stormy winter day.

I didn't know on that day, twenty-two years ago, what was looming ahead for me and my child. I didn't know then that my brother would become my "ally" of sorts, as we would soon be siblings both living the same... yet different experiences of going through this life with the devastating loss of a beloved child.

I'm sure that to our extended family the names Christopher and Ashleigh are synonymous to each other; they often are to me. During their short lives they knew each other well. They were playmates and friends, as well as cousins. They were born just three months apart and they left this earth in just over twenty-one months of each other. Each day that goes by takes us one day further from the time we spent with them here on earth, and at the same time... is a day closer to the unimaginably glorious reunion that will take place between parents and children. As the years have passed, my confidence has increased in my belief that Ashleigh and Christopher's "timing" together on earth and in heaven, is not coincidental.

They were the best of friends from their infancy.

As the "big" sister in the family, I always felt a certain responsibility to look out for my younger siblings. Isn't that what big sisters do? On August 16, 1990, it was my little brother Alan who was one of the first to arrive at my home upon hearing the news about Ashleigh. During a conversation between me and Alan before that fateful day, I clearly remember him saying to me that I would never have to worry about losing a child, because lightening never strikes twice. But lightening did strike twice, and this time when it hit, it was my little brother that was looking out for me.

My memories of Christopher are tender (you can read more here). He was an intelligent child. I can still hear his little voice in my mind and see his handsome face. Although I have mourned the loss of my own child, I can still shed tears that are exclusively for Christopher. He has a piece of my heart. I am grateful he is my family. I believe with all of my heart that he and Ashleigh are together, and that thought has brought me much comfort. They are lights to all of our family. A reminder to each of us that families really are eternal, that we must put effort into our relationships, and love one another unconditionally.

I love Alan and Marivic. They have been a source of strength to me through these many years; they are "rocks". Not only are they our family, but they have been friends to Mike and I, as the four of us have been on this "journey".

When I try to comprehend that joyous reunion I mentioned earlier, well... there are no words to describe. But, I'm hoping that my brother and I will someday be trading baby-sitting again when we give up our "empty-nester" lifestyles in order to raise our little ones during the millennium. Can you just imagine that day?

Love you Alan and Marivic!

All of the Marsden cousins in August of 1989, just a few months before Christopher passed away. I have always loved the fact that Christopher and Ashleigh stand together in this picture.