A EULOGY FOR OUR DAUGHTER

I will never forget the day that we found out we were expecting a baby girl. After five boys I was surprised by this news. One of my very first thoughts about this new little girl was of someday walking her down the aisle. It was difficult for me to think of giving my daughter’s hand to another man. The day after we learned we were expecting a girl, a nurse called to tell us that there were “abnormalities” in the ultrasound – so much so, that it was unlikely our daughter would make it to full term. Although I would indeed walk Therese down the aisle, it would look much different than I expected. 

A eulogy is a piece of writing that praises someone highly, typically someone who has just died. My mind immediately considered a political or religious leader. Mighty accomplishments, leadership, and courageous deeds can so easily be praised. But what could be said of a little baby? 

We learned that Therese, our daughter, had Trisomy 18 – A chromosomal abnormality. How Trisomy 18 presents itself is so wide-ranging that it left one of the doctors to explain it like this, “If you’ve seen one baby with Trisomy 18, you’ve seen one.” Therese was indeed one of a kind, as we all are. And she did make it to birth. She then spent 63 days in the hospital addressing a host of different challenges. Those weeks were filled with deep anxiety – ups and downs, fear and dread, and the experience of God permitting what seemed like more than we could bear. After those days in the NICU, we brought Therese home to our boys. They showered her with love and affection – despite the complication of cords, tubes, and meds that became part of daily life. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. These were times filled with all that life has to offer – toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing. After seven months at home with us, after countless hugs, kisses, and tender moments, Therese died. She died in Mom’s arms, surrounded by broken hearts… and scared hearts, nervous hearts, confused hearts. So it came – the opportunity to walk Therese down the aisle. In a small wooden casket, we laid her at the foot of the altar – placed before the One who created her, the One for whom she was made. 

So… what could be praised in Therese? 

Therese was an invasion of Grace. A reception of reality – the reality of my lack of control, my inadequacy, my weak faith – an experience of my humanity. And there was something else, beyond words. Draped in a frail body which was not strong enough even to lift her own head, was this one quiet thing – presence. In the silent hours of the day Therese laid there in front of our hearth, in her broken-ness, breathing… With those little breaths giving witness to being human and to life. She spoke without a single word. 

We all have a mission – Therese’ mission was so humble, yet it changed the course of my life – what a mystery. In the nine months that Therese lived the world experienced great fear and division amidst a worldwide pandemic. Therese passed those nine months quietly doing what God asked of her – sleeping, crying, laughing, and suffering – and God worked through her. She received our love, and in return, she gave hers to each of us. My mission is no less humble than hers. She taught me that I am not as important as I think I am. She taught me that I try too hard. She taught me to be and to receive. To do the little things that I am called to do. Therese taught me what it really means to be human. 

Everything comes from the hand of a loving Father. God be praised in my daughter Therese. “Because I was small and weak, Jesus stooped down, and in silence taught me the wonders of His love.” -St. Therese of Lisieux