Today marks exactly two months since Olivia became an angel. In some ways it feels like she was just here yesterday and in others it feels like it’s been years. I miss her so much! She and I had the most beautiful bond that I won’t ever share with anyone else again. There’s already an amazing bond that can only exist between a mother and a daughter, but when your daughter is sick and fighting for her life, that bond intensifies and strengthens in a way that is difficult to explain.
Olivia was my everything. I absolutely love and adore her brother and her father, but my whole life revolved around her. She needed so much care and I was very happy to do it. That doesn’t mean that I wasn’t exhausted and pushed to my limits. It just means that I love her so much that I would’ve done anything to save her. Anything to make her comfortable. I said countless times that I didn’t care if she had to live with me for the rest of her life, I just wanted her to be here. And if that meant caring for my 50 year old daughter in my 70’s, so be it.
Am I a perfect mother? Absolutely not! But Olivia was the perfect daughter. She was so sweet, strong, caring, sensitive and loving. She changed me forever and I am so grateful for that. Olivia had this way about her. She made each person around her feel so special. She would look at you with her beautiful hazel eyes and smile and anyone would just melt. She loved to give big, open mouth baby kisses, especially to her mommy. She had the most beautiful laugh.
And she also had such a feisty side. She could be naughty, but even then she did it in such a way that you couldn’t possibly be mad at her. You just had to smile and thank God for another day with her.
I never imagined that I would lose her. I fought so hard for her that the idea that she wouldn’t survive was out of the question. Even in the last month when she began to decline so rapidly, I held on to any positive I could, believing this was just a temporary setback.
Olivia gave us glimpses of hope in those last weeks. We had moments of smiles, laughter, hugs. It wasn’t until that awful afternoon on October 17th when we received the news that her tumor had exploded in growth and she wasn’t going to make it that she started to take such quick steps towards Heaven. I strongly believe that she waited until she knew that we knew what was coming to start making her journey to Heaven. That very night is when she started to let go. She started eating less and less and sleeping more. What could’ve been weeks or months in her doctors estimation ended up being a mere 5 days. She was ready but she wanted to make sure that we knew what was coming. She was forever thinking of her family first. Even in those last days.
We cuddled her, loved on her, kissed her and just breathed her in. She suffered little discomfort or pain and died in her mommy and daddy’s arms at 7:09 p.m. on October 22, 2013.
Now I have to find a way to go on without her, knowing she is in Heaven smiling down on me. That’s what has led us to start the Olivia Caldwell Foundation for pediatric brain cancer research. This foundation is her legacy. It’s a way for us to let her memory shine on and help others. It’s what she would want us to do. Help us find a cure and honor our daughter’s memory! Donate to the Olivia Caldwell Foundation today. Check out our website to learn more at www.oliviacaldwellfoundation.org. Or you can donate right now by clicking on the “Donate Now” button to the right of this post. Thank you and God Bless!