Caitlin’s death from leukemia, on Tuesday, December 28, 2004, came as a sudden and totally unexpected surprise to us all. Caitlin was always a healthy and active girl, even as a teenager. Leukemia was never a part of her life.

December 2004 started out like any other December for our family -- busy. We were all caught up in getting ready for the holidays. Caitlin had had pneumonia for Thanksgiving, so she was also busy getting caught up on schoolwork she had missed.

I surprised Caitlin by picking her up from school one afternoon. “Let’s go buy a Christmas tree!” Within minutes of arriving at the tree lot, Caitlin had found the perfect tree for us. That weekend, cousin John and his girl friend, April, stopped by our house to help decorate the tree.

The next week Caitlin and her sisters, Kelsey and Kristy, visited Santa at the mall--all three sat on Santa's lap for a picture. On the 17th, Caitlin danced in her school’s annual winter dance concert. She looked radiant. During the week before Christmas, Caitlin spent her spare time making gifts for her friends and distributing goodie bags to her teachers and bus driver.

On Tuesday, before Christmas, Caitlin went to the dentist complaining of pains in her wisdom teeth. The only solution was to remove her wisdom teeth -- surgery was scheduled for the day before Christmas. All went well and Caitlin came home to recuperate. Her face was swollen from the extraction and her mouth was tender.

Caitlin was sleepy and sore on Christmas Day (Saturday). John and April, along with Caitlin's grandparents and a couple of other family friends, joined us for the day. We all had a very nice Christmas together. Caitlin had difficulty eating and drinking due to the teeth extraction and the medication which upset her stomach. By late the next day (Sunday), Caitlin appeared to be dehydrated. We called 911 and took her to the emergency room. The early diagnosis was that Caitlin had a sepsis infection (pretty bad stuff) and would need blood work. They decided to airlift Caitlin to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.

The doctor at Hopkins met with us and said that Caitlin could have any of a number of things going on. After additional blood work, acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL) was diagnosed. The Oncologists met with us and said that this form of leukemia was highly survivable. I spent the night at Caitlin's bedside. Every time the doctors spoke with us about Caitlin's condition and what they would do next, we shared that information with Caitlin. She was aware of everything we told her. Throughout the course of Monday, they worked on stabilizing Caitlin's condition, striving to reach a point where they could begin treating the leukemia. It was like a roller-coaster ride -- up and down and up and down. Everything happened very quickly. Late in the afternoon they took Caitlin to the OR to install a ventilator tube in her airway (due to the swelling from her teeth extraction). They also installed a dialysis machine to protect her kidneys from the strain of the chemotherapy that was soon to begin (as leukemia cells die they release toxins that go through the kidneys). Caitlin was sedated from that point forward. Both procedures went well and the expectation was that she would remain sedated throughout the night. Marty (mom) and I (dad) went home to get some sleep so that we could begin the next day fresh.

The hospital called us back shortly after we arrived home. We hurried back and found a flurry of activity going on around Caitlin. But soon after our return they had her stabilized, again. The doctors and nurses went away and returned to other patients. I helped bathe Caitlin. Marty went to get some sleep while I sat in the waiting area. A short time later, they called us back. This time they began administering CPR and manually pumping oxygen. They worked as hard as was possible and refused to give up -- they did not want to lose Caitlin any more than we did. Within 20 minutes it was all over.

Caitlin was unconscious during this time. The final look on her face was one of peace, not pain. I immediately offered myself to God in exchange for Caitlin but was told "No." I quickly realized that Caitlin was now doing what she spent her entire life longing to do -- she was flying. Marty and I cried long and hard. Then we went home.

While we were with Caitlin at the hospital, Kelsey and Kristy stayed with friends. We called them home to tell them the news. As they walked in the front door they knew something was wrong. We told them that Caitlin had died and then we all had a long, hard cry. Later that day (still Tuesday), a friend drove Marty and me to the funeral home to make final arrangements for Caitlin. After I identified her body, I bent down, kissed Caitlin's forehead and told her, "Good night. I love you. I'll see you in the morning." I had always told Caitlin this same thing every night as I tucked her into her bed.

We spent the remainder of Tuesday calling friends and family to tell them of Caitlin's death. Marty's sister and her daughter arrived on Wednesday to help us through the next couple of days. Sleep did not come easily and food held no interest. We were miserable. We met with our priest and planned a memorial service for Caitlin -- a Celebration of Life -- to be held on Friday, December 31, 2004 (New Year's Eve day).

Thursday night I sat talking with my brother. I told him that I expected to be quite exhausted after the service the next day and that I did not think I would be able to take Kelsey and Kristy to go Cosmic Bowling for New Year's Eve (a family tradition). Instantly two ornaments came flying off the Christmas tree (one shaped like a heart). My brother and I looked at each other and I knew I had to go bowling with Kelsey and Kristy. Caitlin's message was clear!

The next day was sunny with a few clouds. We arrived at the church and found quite a crowd. The church had seating for three hundred. We learned, later, that at least four hundred people had attended the service -- some of whom had to stand in the hallway and even a few in the parking lot.

The tone of the service was very positive. Marty and I were the first two speakers. Marty quoted one of Caitlin's favorite lines from the movie, Annie -- "the sun will come out tomorrow." During my time I said that I can see her whenever I look up into the sky. She is in the clouds as they go racing about. She is there playing peek-a-boo with me when the sun ducks in and out of the clouds.

Several of Caitlin's friends also shared memories of her. From them it was clear that Caitlin had been a dear friend to each of them and to many others not present. Caitlin's pre-school teacher related a story of Caitlin's caring nature. The father of one of Caitlin's friends and the mother of one of Kelsey's friends each shared their positive memories of Caitlin and her relationship to their daughters.

Afterwards, Marty and I talked with as many people as we could for three hours. Many people said they felt uplifted by the service. They were going home to hug their children and reassess their lives. We were exhausted but felt at peace. That night, I took Kelsey and Kristy Cosmic Bowling. Caitlin’s spirit was with us as we bowled -- Kelsey and Kristy had a great time. The many friends and family with us that night felt Caitlin's presence as well.

We are very thankful for the time we had with Caitlin. Her life, though short (15¾ years), was both full and rich. We have no regrets about the life Caitlin shared with us. We love her now as much as we ever have and will continue to love her for the remainder of our lives. We miss her very much. We have been blessed with the ongoing love, prayers, and support from our family, friends, and the community at large. Thank you all.