She held him in her arms for the last time. His body was starting to feel cold to her. Her heart ached. It was time to go. No pain is as deep as the pain of losing a child. You eventually learn how to function with this pain, but it is always with you.
You learn to carry on with life without him, but the emptiness is always there. To survive, you try and find something good from this loss.
Anthony was the fourth child in our family. His curly red hair made him different from his brothers and sister. He had that unique spark that lit up a room the moment he entered it.
Anthony’s first sixteen months were like those of most children. He was busy learning to laugh, cry, speak, roll over in his bed, crawl, and finally how to walk, a little baby reaching to become a little boy.
One day, his mother noticed several unaccounted—for bruises on Anthony, on his forehead, bottom, forearm, and the back of his arms and legs, places that are not normal for a toddler. She had seen this before while working in the ER.
“Greg, you need to take tomorrow off from work, so we can take Anthony in for a few tests.” Lori said.
“What kind of tests?”
“Anthony needs a blood test. I think he may have leukemia. This is serious, Greg. I need you there.”
“Leukemia? That’s a form of cancer isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Our lives would never be the same again. The hospital where Lori used to work was the same hospital that would treat our son for leukemia.
Lori had been trained as a Child Life Specialist. Her job had been to help children and their families understand the procedures they were about to undergo. The treatments could be as simple as a child’s first shot to as difficult as a bone marrow transplant. She never thought that she would need all of her training and then some for her own child.
Over the next three years, Anthony spent more than three hundred nights in the hospital. He underwent enough chemotherapy to kill most healthy adults and radiation treatment multiple times. He experienced relapse after relapse. He had a bone marrow transplant, in which his nine-year old sister was his perfect donor match.
We almost lost Anthony several times. When he first underwent chemotherapy, he was in so much pain that he could only lie still in his crib and moan from the intense pain. He was in too much pain to even be held. The doctors told us many times that there was not much more they could do.
As parents, we could only pray, be patient, and watch to see if our 16-month-old boy could survive. Somehow Anthony managed to have a good life at home when away from the hospital. He was the team mascot for his sister’s basketball team. He went to his brother’s soccer games, rode his bike, danced, played at the beach, went to Mass.
As Lori held Anthony in her arms during his last moments, she told him. “I promise, Anthony that I will use your name to do something good for others.”
During Anthony’s illness, many people were good to our family. There were big things like a trip to Florida from “Make- A- Wish”. A fund-raiser at St. Andrew’s, our parish, brought hundreds of people together and gave our family a financial boost when we needed it. There was always a friend to lend a hand managing things at home.
We saw firsthand that there were many little things that added up each day during Anthony's hospital stays. Everyday, one of us would need to drive to the hospital and the rushing around did not stop with that. We were always filling the car up with gas. We had to pay for parking. We made long-distant phone calls. We ate breakfast, lunch and dinner at the hospital. These were everyday costs that no insurance company would cover.
When a young child is in the hospital for an extended period of time, one of the parents is usually there around the clock. Most parents are not willing to leave their baby alone. The hospital provides meals for the patient, but not his parents. The parent rarely leaves the hospital building, sometimes for weeks at a time.
While one parent is in the hospital, the other parent tries to take care of things at home and keep active enough at work to not lose the job. Some companies are better about this than others.
Life goes on for the rest of the family. They all still need help with homework, baths, clothes washed, to be fed breakfast, lunch and dinner, to be shuttled to activities and have someone at home when they get off of the school bus. These things of everyday life must go on while the family is in the middle of a battle for the life of their child. The burden is heavy.
”I love you so much Anthony,” Lori said as she kissed him on his cheek.
“I love you too mommy,” whispered Anthony.
A few moments later, Anthony stopped breathing in his mother’s arms. Two weeks later, Anthony’s Angels was born.
After Anthony’s funeral, Lori approached the hospital with her idea of helping out other families. The social workers, who had seen many grieving parents attempt to start a memorial for their child, told her that she needed to wait one year.
Lori waited for nothing. She got busy organizing and planning right away.
The idea for Anthony’s Angels came from the recognition of the little things that parents and families need everyday while their child is in the hospital for an extended stay. The goal was to touch each and every newly diagnosed family in the oncology and blood disorder unit at the hospital where Anthony was first diagnosed.
Inspired by the needs of our family and other families like us, the Anthony’s Angels Family Care Package was put together.
Included in the Anthony’s Angels Family Care Package are the following:
Soft sided cooler for bringing in lunches, snacks and sodas, baby bottles and medicines that need to stay cool.
Pre-paid long-distance phone cards. Every family needs to speak to an out of town mother, brother, or even doctor.
Pre-paid gasoline card. With the price of gas approaching $2.00/ gallon, this is often a welcome gift.
Parking passes for 30 visits. Sometimes a car can sit in a parking garage for two weeks without moving.
Gift certificate for the hospital cafeteria. It is good for a parent to leave the room and grab a breakfast, lunch or dinner. This gift helps encourage them to do just that.
Crossword puzzle and word games books.
Notepad and pen for jotting questions to ask the doctor or for ideas and/or journal entries.
Note cards for sending notes and thank yous.
Instant coffee, tea, or hot chocolate.
Colorful mug.
It has been over four years since Anthony’s death. To date, we have served over two hundred families. Through the grace of God, and the generosity of many, Anthony’s Angels will be there to help many more families for years to come.
Anthony’s Angels is a non-profit, 501c3 organization and is completely funded by small fundraisers and private donations. The cost of each gift basket is $50.00. There are no administrative costs. Our goal is to use 100% of all donations for helping families of extended stay patients. So far, we have been able to meet this goal and keep our promise to Anthony.
For more information, please visit the Anthony’s Angels web site.
