Christmas Day Photos

I've been sick the last few days, hardly able to complete any of my tasks getting ready to lay Madeleine to rest. These are things hard for me to let go and delegate like her program, the readings for the mass, the photos. And in doing these as best I can before time runs out, I wanted to share what makes me cry, happy tears and miss her tears.

Christmas Eve ~ Vazquez Family

Mama's Angels

Merry Christmas!!!

Big sister shows Madeleine her toy

New Present

yay for new toys

Shaking her candy in happiness

Daddy's special gift

Christmas dinner

Until we meet again my love, my angel, Mommy & Daddy and sis miss you tons. Have fun with Grandpa.

For Those of You Who'd Like To Help......

Madeleine’s family greatly appreciates all of the thoughts and prayers that many of you have sent. They are thankful for such wonderful family and friends.

Many of you have asked what they can do to assist Jeff and Veronica during this difficult time. We are hoping to take the monetary burden off of the family as much as possible. We are still working on gathering the memorial costs and would like to raise enough to allow Jeff, Veronica and Annalise some much needed time to heal together (vacation). 

 

You can make a contribution in the following three ways:

To donate by cash or check, please contact Veronica’s Mother, Kathy at 775-232-6569 or by email: katskall@charter.net.

Credit/debit card payments can be made directly to Holy Cross Cemetery by calling: (310) 836-5500. When calling please let them know that you would like to donate towards “Madeleine Vazquez’s cemetery costs”. Please inform Kathy at the above email address the amount of your donation.

To donate by PayPal click the yellow donate button on the lower right hand of this page.

Thank you everyone for following Madeleine’s journey and for assisting the Vazquez family during this difficult time.

Obituary & Services

Madeleine Angela Vazquez

Madeleine closed her eyes to this world and passed on to her future as an angel on January 9, 2013. Her spirit here on earth captivated many. Her special eyes stole the hearts of many as she entered their souls gracefully and changed them. She was 15 months old.

Madeleine is survived by her loving family: big sister Annalise Amelia and parents Jeffrey Vazquez and Veronica Aguas; Grandparents Arturo and Victoria Vazquez of Culver City, CA/ Kathy Thomas of Reno, NV/ Rudy Aguas of Reno, NV; Great-grandparents Maria Angela Neira of Los Angeles/ Herlinda Romero of Oceanside/ Roger and Jo Ann Ralston of Redding, CA/ James Thomas of Whitmore, CA; Aunts Janine Vazquez, Jessica Aguas, Jordyn Paquin; Uncles Jonathan Vazquez and Tony Aguas; Cousin Vincente James; & Countless more extended families in  Northern & Southern California.

Events in Memory of Madeleine will be held at 

Holy Cross Cemetery and Mortuary

5835 W. Slauson Avenue, Culver City, CA 90230

(310) 836-5500

Family and Friends are invited to the following

 Life Celebration Visitation Vigil & Rosary 

on Thursday, January 17th from 4:00-8:00 p.m.

Funeral Mass in the Holy Cross Chapel

on Friday, January 18th at 1:00 p.m.

Graveside Burial & Blessing immediately following Mass

Celebration of Life to follow funeral services

Daddy wants to say something!

It is with great reluctance that I have just now decided to write on my daughters blog. Throughout this journey, the love of my life, and mother of my two beautiful girls, Veronica, has taken on the daunting task of informing and updating those FORTUNATE not to have to endure Madeleine's battle in person. With an extremely candid, detailed, and most importantly loving approach, Veronica has provided more insight into what not only Madeleine, but our small and resilient family has had to endure this last year. Those who know me personally know far too well that I rarely am at a loss for words. In fact some would argue that I have this innate ability and timing to say exactly what needs to be said at just the right moment… I was at a loss for words for the first time in my life. In retrospect I now realize that there were several forces at play rendering me silent. The most prevalent of those forces was the self imposed realization that the words needed to adequately describe Madeleine simply had yet to exist. Of course my praise and admiration is somewhat biased of Madeleine because I hold my children in such high regard to begin with. I would expect any self respecting parent feels no less about their own children. The other reason I refrained from sharing, I'm embarrassed to say is a selfish one. The experiences and memories I have of Madeleine are mine, and mine alone. As I consider Veronica to be the better part of me, and I equate Annalise to being the smaller and easier to carry replica of me, I openly and lovingly share with them. Of course if it's the Lords will to ever bless us again with more precious angels, I will certainly make it my life's goal to paint a vivid portrait of their baby sister in heaven for them as well, but that's it. Madeleine and my memories, selfishly are mine to keep, cherish, and reflect on until the day I leave this world and can pick her up and hold her in my arms once again.

I would like to take this opportunity to address a reoccurring sentiment that many have expressed. I just can't imagine what you must be feeling right now!  I can only offer insight into what I am currently feeling as a grieving father and husband. I simply can't speak on behalf of Veronica or my daughter Annalise because I feel inadequate to speak justly  for them. My girls mean the world to me and I fear that I would be a disservice to their feelings. To begin, I don't know how to categorize my emotions at this moment into just one word. I can tell you that what I feel is not only overwhelming, but debilitating. I spent the last several days at home with Madeleine holding, caressing, kissing, smelling, and staring at her, all the while asking every single one of my senses to work more efficiently than ever before to commit my baby to memory before it was too late. There were a lifetime of memories and experiences that I had to consolidate into a very short period of time. I needed to take in as much as possible to sustain me until I saw her again in heaven. I am at peace with the fact that my daughter is no longer in pain. I don't mourn the loss of my daughter to the extent that most people feel I should. It's not for a lack of emotion either. I refuse to cry about that fact that my daughter who never knew a life without physical pain, is no longer hurting. Her disease will remain with her body, and we will lay that to rest underground shortly. Her spirit, which I have fallen madly in love with and will cherish forever, is alive and well. For this, I am happy and at peace. A dear friend of mine who also lost his only son a few years back, put things into perspective for me. He said my baby is in my past, and I will forever have her there to love, but she is also in my future. If it's my wish to see her again, I can't mourn and stop my life for too long. I need to get myself up and continue to live out my life. The sooner I move forward, the closer I'll be to seeing her again… Daddy's coming baby!

The last thing I would like to discuss and acknowledge is more of a cautionary discussion to all of those men out there who have had or will have the honor of having a child. I am not a physical or violent person by any source of the imagination. I am outraged however by the disregard and disgusting laziness that some BOYS have for their perfectly healthy and LIVING children. I begged the Lord more times than I care to remember to transfer Madeleines disease over to me. I would gladly die in return for any of my babies to live. My plea unfortunately never came to be. For your sake, I pray that you never treat your children with any less love, admiration , and selflessness that I had intended for Madeleine. So help you GOD! Always remember, your baby eats before you so much as touch a piece of food. Your baby has everything they need or want within your God given ability before you consider waisting a penny on yourself. Most importantly, your baby will never lay down to sleep with an ounce of doubt or uncertainty of their Daddy's unwavering devotion and commitment to them. Do this, because they deserve no less. If you can't, send your angels to me!!!

I love you Veronica, Annalise, and my guardian angel Madeleine, with all of my being. I will spend the rest of my life proving this to you all!

 God bless-  Daddy

At Peace

I can't get into great detail of Madeleine's final day. To say that we agonized over her condition is understated, but to know that Jeff had a premonition, and I had a premonition, independently of one another and we dared not speak of it lest it come true, is a testament of how she was that day. She was actively treated by her nurse for more than two hours, and my mom or I never left her side all day long. However, by 3 o'clock I knew, without a doubt, and I busied myself to pretend I didn't know, an involuntary decision I hope I don't live to regret. But she knew I was there. 

February 2012

She wasn't waiting for me, I had already told her many times during the last weeks of her struggle that Mommy is ok and she doesn't have to worry about me. On Tuesday she was waiting to hear her Daddy's voice, and ultimately, she was waiting for Annalise to let her go.

June 2012

I am in complete awe of the bond between my girls at their young age. The last 17 days at home on hospice were as normal as we possibly could make them, and Annalise is so smart and astute and articulate, but this was one thing she couldn't communicate. Of course she couldn't, we wouldn't expect she could at 3 1/2 years old. Throughout each day she would occasionally go to Madeleine in her chair, press her cheek to Madeleine's cheek, whisper "I love you Madeleine" to her and go about her day. The sad truth is that it was completely normal to Annalise for Madeleine to be sick; a heartache I know Jeff and I will feel for all of our days. There is something inherently wrong with a child being accustomed to hospitals and sickness; it just not ought to be. The last day, on Tuesday, Annalise checked on her several times after waking up to Madeleine having head-shaking seizures. I'm not sure I will ever know what she thought or how she interpreted what she saw.

But she knew too something was different. Finally, very late into the evening, after Madeleine's fever peaked at 103.3 and we knew it was coming, and Jeff's parents were in our home later than they had ever been, it was time for Annalise to say good night. She dressed for bed and did her nighttime rituals. She gave everyone hugs and kisses good night. She went to Madeleine, put her arms around her limp shoulders, kissed her cool cheek, gently rubbed their tiny noses together, and told her, "good night Madeleine. I love you. Merry Christmas Madeleine." 

November 2012

She went to bed and I'm so thankful she slept through the weeping and cries of 5 adults as Madeleine took her last breath and we felt her last heart beat. Jeff held her and I both close and we looked into her eyes and told her it was ok to go, it was time now, don't be scared baby, Mommy and Daddy love you. A moment of stillness felt like an hour. We thanked her for going. We thanked God for her peacefulness in our arms. Jeff loved her and held her tightly talking to her. I was frozen sitting in front of him. It was as if I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. Eventually I felt an uncontrollable pull of my arms towards her. I took her in my arms and walked to my bedroom, where I sat in the dark and told her how I loved her so, and I missed her already. I don't know why I kept telling her, you belong to me, you will always belong to me, you're my baby- but I did. I must have said that 5 times. And I wailed. I held her to my chest and cried those mother's tears of sorrow. And then it stopped. My heart did not ache. My heart was at peace because my daughter was finally at peace.

Posted to our ATRT support group

Our Madeleine, our sunshine, and now, our angel. For 13 of her 15 months of life she fought valiantly against the pineal tumor and won, though ATRT eventually metastasized through her spine, brain stem and abdomen. She earned her wings this morning (01.09.13) in her Daddy's and my arms peacefully after a long day's battle with intense seizures. Forever loved, truly missed, and thankful for God's mercy she is no longer suffering.

Madeleine Angela Vazquez

10.02.2011 - 01.09.2013

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away -Revelation 21:4

At 12:35am our baby became an angel

Trying to find Joy everywhere

I have to apologize to those I welcomed to come visit and have yet to confirm. We've decided not to have any more visitors. Each day gets harder. In the last week we've definitely taken notice of Madeleine's changes as well her little victories. She's still getting up every day and interacting with us by eye contact. She enjoys watching cell phone videos of herself and her sister. She enjoys looking at pictures of familiar faces. She is still swallowing and taking all of her medicines. Dr Davidson came to visit last Wednesday and spent over an hour talking to her and holding her. She shared with us that she was pleased to see Madeleine's comfort level at that time, which did provide us with a certain level of relief considering what we've been witnessing. She may be coming back to visit this week since Madeleine does seem to be experiencing additional spontaneous pain and we have seen changes. We want to protect her and keep these days private among us; it is very important to Jeff and I that we and everyone remember Madeleine as she really is, a child of wonder, joy, laughter, silliness and sunshine, and not as she is in her current condition.  For that reason, I will not go into detail about her symptoms, disease progression, or our emotional health, but rather share a happy story, Madeleine's  birth story.

A mild autumn Sunday morning, about 5 am a very pregnant mama got up for the 100th time to use the restroom. The night before we attended a 1st birthday party for our little friend Sophie when suddenly I felt very tired that we left and came home. Luckily I was in the restroom when my water broke. I nudged Jeff from sleep to tell him the baby could be coming today, and I went back to bed. For months I had my heart set on an all-natural delivery and had focused my effort on my yoga practice and centering my mind "upwards and inwards." A half hour later, I sent my mom a text, saying "I think it's Labor Day :)" since Madeleine was not due for another week. Another half hour and the contractions were steady and manageable, considering I had recently learned the meditation practice in yoga, and I was able to keep myself half way between asleep yet cognizant of the contractions. By 9:00 am I was packing our hospital overnight bag between contractions and stayed on the phone with my mother, who urged me to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Rather suddenly Madeleine decided she was coming, and the contractions were about 6 minutes apart. Jeff's father rushed over to pick up Annalise and I shoved myself into the backseat. We lived 12 miles from the hospital. The entire car ride to the hospital was humorous; during contractions it seemed to take everything to keep from delivering her in the car on the freeway! 
Jeff rushed me through the ER up to Labor & Delivery and in 10 minutes the triage nurse realized I wasn't kidding when I said, "this baby is coming now!!" Two nurses and Jeff then rushed me into a delivery room, and within 10 minutes and two big pushes, little miss Madeleine was born at 11:21 am. Her head was perfectly rounded :) We laughed at how quickly everything transpired and we got plenty of envious notes from other mothers at how lucky I was for such a speedy labor and delivery. It makes me smile now thinking about how empowered and connected to Madeleine I felt after her birth, a joyful memory I will have all of my life.

The other day two very dear friends of mine wrote very kind words on my last post about what Madeleine has meant to each of them. It was exactly what I needed to read on a day I felt so glum. We welcome personal stories of how Madeleine has affected people individually or special memories of her. It's just what we need at a time like now.

There is no Balance

New year's has always been my favorite holiday. To me there was something refreshing and truly reflective about starting a new year. I used to have insomnia for nearly two weeks in January deciding on whether I was happy with my life and my decisions and the efforts I would make to point myself in the right directions. 

Five years ago I fell in love with Jeffrey and some other very devastating things happened within my family; four years ago we were in a difficult place but we were together and expecting our first child, and so it went. Last year all our holidays were spent in confusing, desperate emotions as we had not a clue what was going on and what to expect with Madeleine's newly found health condition that was still a huge mystery (she was admitted 12/22/11 and spent every holiday in the hospital). And then of course, this New Year's. I'm just not sure I enjoy it anymore or that it has the same meaning for me. Now that I have reached a place in my life where I make a lot better choices and put my children before myself, nothing seems fair, or just, or appropriate in terms of a personal threshold. Jeff and I have never felt more pushed, more exhausted, more emotionally spent and wasted, and stressed, and anxious, and depressed, and at the same time, blessed. The hardest thing we have ever had to do has been this year; and yet, that still isn't enough. Because by far the hardest thing will be to let go and let Madeleine become an angel. I hate this New Year's. Please pray for us, for me- I feel like I'm gonna lose it anytime.

Because of how sleepy Madeleine was yesterday we made adjustments to her medication under the advisement of the hospice doc. She paid greatly for it, and so did we, as all night long it was screaming in pain and us feeling desperate that we weren't sure how to catch her up and make her comfortable again. We were on the phone with the hospice nurse at 5am, 8am, again at 3pm when we had finally caught her up and we slept. Such a difficult balance for us as her parents: to keep her awake and not sedated from her medication to enjoy what she can while controlling her pain. Yesterday we felt like maybe she was slightly over-medicated, making her too sleepy. We know now she's exactly where she should be for pain control. For personality, it could still be not enough. Madeleine stays relatively quiet during the day, unless she's completely comfortable and we get a couple of her little words. However this morning when she had had two doses of her morphine and was completely knocked out, she was TALKING in her sleep. Really talking, like she used to before the hospital stay, all the words she hasn't been saying since being home. This leads us to believe that she has the ability to still talk, just for some reason she isn't, and could that be because she's quiet while compensating for her pain. Praying for the right answers. 

We are not well emotionally. Every day could be the day, and trying to share her with people who love her is difficult, not for the sharing part exactly, but our little nurtured, cultured, small space for her and talking about her. We have tried for a very long time to establish boundaries for our emotional health; as hard as it is for any other one person, it is exponentially harder for us, her parents. 

Jeff is looking forward to 2013. Me, I'm trying; that's the best I can do tonight. December 31st brought the newest baby cousin, little Julian, bringing hope and beautiful life to the New Year. Hoping to remember the beauty in 2013.