Wall Of Memory
Sometimes the cancer monster wins.
Cancer Kids honors the sweet memory of all children who have courageously fought the cancer monster.
You can submit a web page to be included on the list.
Lawrence Michael McReynolds
May 12, 1970 - August 17, 1973
You were such a beautiful baby boy. I loved you dearly. I often wonder what you would look like today. You were so smart,funny, lovable, strong and determined. I have never forgotten you, and look forward to the day that we will meet again.
Kathy Lynn Atkinson
March 17, 1963 - October 13, 1975
Christopher Timothy Claffey
June 02, 1966 - August 08, 1976
My brave and loving brother. I share your legacy with my children. I will remember and love you always. You will always be my motivation and inspiration. We will hug you in heaven.
January 09, 1973 - August 17, 1976
Ricky Alexander Tilly
July 07, 1972 - October 15, 1977
July 15, 1963 - August 10, 1978
A wonderful friend who I think of often and still miss greatly...love you Jamie
Robert Patrick Parke
August 15, 1976 - March 31, 1980
Amber Marie Calistro
February 28, 1976 - October 30, 1980
Amber knew why she was sent to earth. A few days before she died, she called me to her side and told me, "Mom, I KNOW I'm here to help a lot of people." Although she said many wise and wonderful things in her 4 1/2 years, I was astounded. From the moment she was born, I knew I was "chosen" to be Amber's mother but the reason why was unclear. I documented our life together and especially her journey through cancer with recordings, movies, photos, media coverage, her drawings, and a journal. It helped me cope, gave me purpose, and ensured that her life and death would have meaning, even after she died. Having found Bernie Siegel to care for her, I was blessed beyond words. He helped us help her "cross the threshold" between life and death. Her death was miraculous. The moment she stopped breathing, I physically felt God... the Higher Power... the world that we cannot see with our eyes. Amber died on my 27th birthday in 1980. Before she died, she gave me the most precious gift I've ever received: The secret to what happens after our body dies. "Mom, when I die, I'll still be Amber, I'll just be DIFFERENT." Knowing that, I did not "lose a child," she did not "pass away." She simply changed. She is with me now, but different. For most of the 30+ years since she died, this "gift" has comforted me, given me the strength to help others, and sustained me as I dug deep to call up the feelings and emotions I needed to write "Embrace the Angel." It is now published and I am ready to, once again, reach out and spread Amber's message of "hope, heaven, and the miracle of life and death." But there is one thing holding me back. It is not her death, it is cancer. It is not the fact that she was "killed," is the the "murderer." I am trying to "wrap myself around" this horrible disease that kills so many of our loved ones. I must find peace and understanding while working to bring people together, raise awareness, and facilitate change in the "Cancer World." But how? Perhaps returning to the moment in time when my "Life Task" is the answer. After she died at home, we took her body to St. Raphael's Hospital in New Haven, CT. Bernie called ahead to make the arrangements. Excerpt from Chapter 14, Crossing the Threshold: "I walked towards the automatic doors, her lifeless body swaying to my step. Beyond the parting doors, I could see a crowd. Nurses, doctors, secretaries, visitors, priests, and nuns had gathered there to pay their last respects to this little girl—their little girl—who had fought so bravely to the very end. At once, I could see I wasn't alone, that they had suffered, too. They had hoped for her recovery, prayed for her life, and watched along with me as she slowly and painfully died. Many were crying. Their grief forced them to turn to each other for comfort. I felt no pangs of sadness or sorrow; I still felt the glory of God. I was at peace, and so was my baby. Dr. Raine, a young intern, directed us to a small room that was separated from the Emergency Room by a curtain. I placed her body on the stretcher and studied it... absorbing every inch... filling my mind with the memory of Amber. "Perfect feet... hands... lips... eyes..." I stopped at the tumor. I moved closer to inspect it. Since she wasn't there and could feel no pain, I shook it. It felt like gelatin: Soft, powerless, sickening. It was enormous; nearly the same size as her head. "How can something so pathetic... so ugly... kill my beautiful little girl?!?!" Just under my skin, seething rage was coursing through my veins. In my mind, I could see a battlefield strewn with the bodies of all the other children who had died before Amber and the bodies of children yet to come. Instantly, I felt as though I'd been injected with a tranquilizer. My hatred gave way to a new understanding. "Don't waste your life hating. Your time on this earth is too short. Take her message...take MY message to the world. WRITE THE BOOK. Save the others." I took a vow: "I will."
Frank ( Eddie ) Dickerson
December 30, 1975 - June 11, 1982
My broken heart is like a wound that will not heal. I think of my son every day and I still cry at the unjustice of this terrible disease. Even though it has been 20 years the memory is as fresh as if it were yesterday. My life has forever changed my heart forever broken. Safe in HIS arms Love Dad
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