Good Evening everyone

I am so honored to be asked to speak at the Festival of Trees this evening.  The recipient of the fundraising from this event is an organization my husband Kim and I hold very close to our hearts.  Bern Palliative Care and the Greystone bereavement center gave our family the strength to do something that we never thought possible, and have helped us to carry on. 

In the past seven years I have lost two sons.

Dustin was born in 1980; all my hopes and dreams had come true. All I had dreamed about as a young girl was to be a Mom.  I was again blessed with the birth of another son, Christopher in 1983. 

My life was very full with two boys, who were both very ambitious.  Being a working full time Mom and having your children in sports and activities consumed our days.  And they were both growing up to be wonderful young men.

Our lives were soon to become unraveled.  In 2001, we received a phone call to say that Dustin had died in a motor vehicle accident.

There I was explaining to Chris that his beloved brother, his best friend and his mentor was gone.  We did not know what to do; and what does one do when tragedy like this strikes?

As the time went by we came to accept our great loss knowing that someday we would once again be reunited with our Dustin.

Chris became the soul focus of my own personal hopes and dreams. 

After all I had paid the ultimate price of losing a child.

However, at the end August 2006, my hopes and dreams were shattered once again, when we learned that Chris was diagnosed with cancer. Chris's first response at hearing the dreadful news was "Oh my God Mom what is going to happen to you?"  Concern not himself but for his Mother.  That was my Christopher. 

During this very scary time, I did seek out medical attention to help me to deal emotionally with Chris's illness.  I was going through a deep depression and at the same time, trying to keep myself together for my son.  I was introduced to Debra Wiszniak who introduced herself as a bereavement counselor for Palliative Care.  I soon learned that I was dealing with anticipatory grief and received wonderful support from Debra and talked to her often throughout Chris's treatment and our journey learning to live with cancer.  She gave me the courage to do what I had to do.  For that I am grateful.

By 2007, Chris's condition went from hopeful to the worse.  We learned he had 5 lesions on his brain and they were inoperable.  Chris was given 3 to 6 months to live.

My entire world just fell apart at that moment.  All my hopes and dreams for my beautiful son were ripped away from me in a matter of seconds.  I was devastated.  Chris had become the word I dreaded; he was Palliative.  I was going to have to watch my only son die.  How was I going to do such a thing?

During the next few months, Palliative Care became a godsend to our family.  They guided us, they educated us, they coached us and they supported us in allowing us to fulfill Chris's final wishes.  I think most of you are all familiar with Chris' wishes - from seeing the ocean, to a Labor Day Rider Game and to the Grey Cup. 

He was able to achieve these wishes because of palliative care and the wonderful compassionate team who made it happen - Dr. Clein, Nurse Leona Carvell and Debra Wiszniak who became and continue to be so much a part of our family.

I remember returning home from Grey Cup on the Premiers plane. Chris was sleeping with his feet on Leona's lap, and I was looking out the window as we are flying over Ontario. 

Then, the tears started flowing down my face; Leona tapped me on the shoulder; she reached over to hug me and I whispered in her ear "I cannot believe I am taking my son home to die." 

I so wanted her to say "No, you are not."  But I knew and so did she, so she just held me. 

Thanks to Debra, I was guided in what to expect at the end of Chris's life.  She gave me the best advice in my entire life as I was able to allow Chris his final wish...to die at home.

In his final moments as he lay in my arms in our home, I was able to say, "I love you and I am so proud of how hard you have fought.  I promise you I will be okay.  And I also promise you that I will carry on what you started, which is helping all these kids with this terrible disease."  I also reminded him "you promised me, when you get to heaven give your brother a great big hug and kiss for me." 

On December 7, 2007, Chris took his last breath in my arms.  He went to join his brother in heaven. 

Now, both my son's were gone.

Loosing Dustin so suddenly, I did not get to touch, hold or see him.   With Chris's death I was able to hold him and to be with him every moment of his journey.

In a couple of short weeks, I will l have to confront a very difficult day it my journey.  On Dec 7, it will be 1 year since I was able to talk to my son, to hold or touch him.  It still some days feels like it just happened yesterday.  I am still in very early grieving.  I can be going along and coping just fine, and a specific date will come looming at me and knock me off guard for a few days.  The Holidays hurt so much, as well as Chris's birthday, and Mother's day will never be the same again.  At times being around my girlfriends at work as they are talking about their children, or their grandchildren, reminds me this is something that I will never experience.  To help me thru these difficult times I have participated in Greystone Group bereavement classes.  What I particularly like about these, is because you are separated into groups according to your loss.   Being able to converse with parents who have lost a child is so important, because the loss of a child is like no other.  We are a club like no other and certainly one no parent wants to be apart of.  No one understands your grief unless they have lost a child.  I saw a popular show the other night that said it all, "when you lose your parents you are called an orphan, when you lose a spouse you are a widow or widower, but when you lose a child, there is no word to describe who you now are."  In a sense you lose part of you identity.  I have learned thru these classes as well as one on one counseling with my friend Debra, there is one thing about grief, "you can't go under, you can't go over, you have to go through it."

This I learned the hard way,  after Chris passed away, I thought in my head that I had done a lot of my grieving before Chris had passed because of his being so sick, so I quickly went back to work, I thought I did not need to talk to anyone anymore, that I was  okay!  Well after a few months of this, something triggered me back to my loss and I off work for a good three weeks.  I tried to deny my sadness and sorrow but it eventually catches up and boy it can take you down. Talking, crying, letting your anger flow, letting myself be sad, as I had every reason to be.  Losing my children meant also losing my hopes and dreams of seeing the boys get married and becoming a Grandma were not going to happen for me. I was mad, and that is okay, you have to let yourself feel and not keep it bottled inside.  Thank God, we have great people in this world who specialize in bereavement counseling and our own bereavement center; a place to turn to when I just need to talk.  When I lost Dustin I did not have this support. I purchased many books about grieving and tried my best to work through it that way. Chris' illness brought back many issues of Dustin's death that I had not resolved. With Debra and the team's help I am able to begin working towards giving closure to that unresolved grief.  I am grieving the loss of both of my boys.

This support is important because we do not know what to expect and we feel alone in our grief, misunderstood.  Everyone else begins to get back to their lives and we are left behind. They do not understand that there is no time line for grief- it just does not suddenly end - it is a journey that lasts a lifetime - the waves only become less intense. However, we can find solace, validation and continued support in such services. We do not have to be alone.

A huge part of the healing that has helped Kim and myself to carry on is the forming of the Chris Knox Foundation.  Its goal is to help children and young adults up the age of 30 who are either battling cancer, are in remission, or are receiving palliative care to attend sporting, fine arts, and cultural events, giving them a much-deserved reprieve and creating some happy memories with their families and loved ones.  It was Chris' wish.

So many wonderful people of this fine province helped our family at such a difficult time, giving us some wonderful memories to cherish with Chris. Now we just want to pay it forward and that is what the Chris Knox Foundation is doing.

I can't express enough gratitude to the Palliative Care team for giving me the courage to do the most important thing of my life.  Helping my child to leave this life feeling loved and with dignity.   And now that he is gone, to help Kim and I find a new normal in our shattered lives with your compassionate and caring grief support.

Lastly I want to share my time this evening at Festival of Trees with the two special angels who walk beside me each day.  Dustin and Chris, I love you with all my heart and miss you each and every day.  Being your Mom is the best job I ever had.  I will never understand why you had to leave me so soon, but I will try to use the memories of the both of you to live my life to the fullest.  As my oldest son Dustin used to say to me "Catch ya later" 

Thank you everyone and have a wonderful evening.