Ella's memorial: my dedication

Ella love

These are the words I spoke at Ella's memorial. I remember battling so much to find the words I wanted to say as nothing seemed enough. Eventually my Dad suggested that I stop and wake up early in the morning, the day of her memorial, to write; which is exactly what I did. This is unedited, my thoughts are all over the place, but it's from my heart and filled with my love for my baby girl.

My Ellie

You would have seen it all. You would have seen Dad and I standing there together, my head on his shoulder as he spoke about you. He's so proud of you.

You would have seen as I kicked off my shoes and moved from the podium to sit on the stairs. You would have seen all your little girl friends with their beautiful shirts come and sit alongside me. Jemmie to my left, NT to my right, Jaz beside me too. Wow baby, I drew such strength from them.

"Ladies! I hope that none of you are wearing mascara – and if you are, I hope it’s 100% water proof! Here we go….

It’s 6 on a Friday morning, my eyes are bleary with sleep. I’m grateful to have slept.

Usually I would walk upstairs and shout a cheery good morning to two sleeping little girls. I’d go into Jemma’s room and cuddle her awake. Leaving her for a few minutes, with a promise that she wouldn’t go back to sleep, I’d creak my way across the wooden floors to Ella’s room. Her alarm would have gone off 10 minutes earlier, and her little hand would have shot out to hit the off button. She would be buried back under her covers with nothing but a few long strands of her beautiful hair sticking out. I’d cuddle her awake, she’d moan and groan and refuse to surface – but eventually she’d open up those smartie brown eyes, and sleepy and smiling she’d say. “Morning Mamma”.

But nothing is usual any longer. I’m not waking my girls up and rushing to get them to school. I’m sitting writing a speech for Ella’s memorial – something I never ever thought I would have to do.

My baby girl is gone and nothing, especially not I, will ever be the same again.

The moment that you left me, my heart was split in two, one side was filled with memories, the other died with you. I lie awake at night when the world is fast asleep, and take a walk down memory lane with tears upon my cheek.

Remembering you is easy, I do it everyday, but missing you is a heartache that never goes away. I hold you tightly within my heart and there you will remain. Life has gone on without you but will never be the same.

My heart aches and I don’t know how to go forward without her. Not a day at a time. Not a step at a time. It can only be one shaky little breath at a time.

I can’t ever imagine feeling better or happy again, but I know that she would want me to. Waves of emotion swell through me and it doesn’t feel right to even laugh at a joke.

I miss her so much. Her great big hugs, the sweet smile, the infectious giggle, the whistling (Ellie was always whistling), the need to be beside me when something didn’t feel quite right, the uncoordinated but rather funky dance moves, and that cheeky grin…..

That one. The one you would see now as I mention her dance moves to you. The one Keegs and Francis often saw when they teased her. This picture has become “the picture”. It makes me smile, other pictures make me smile sadly, this one makes my heart giggle because I remember the day so well. We were in Hammanskraal, just after Christmas day 2014. Ella speaks non stop – a mile a minute – even in her sleep. She was chatting up a storm and something made her start to giggle and when Ella giggles she can’t stop. She’ll laugh until the tears are rolling down her cheeks. She’s even been known to fall off her chair at the dinner table – and of course at times likes these, with 4 kids and Ella’s infectious laugh ringing through the air, we’re all having fun – and Ella is at the middle of that.

Ella’s class made a collage of their hands, written on their hands they used adjectives to describe her: fun, funny, fun-loving. Her friends mention it in their letters to her too. She just loved to clown around – and make people, and herself, laugh.

I remember the first time the giggle/crying combination happened. That same Hammanskraal holiday – we were all in the pool. For some bizarre reason Ella gobbed up a spit ball – disgusting child! – she had meant to spit it over Francis’ head but instead it hit him square in the forehead. She stopped – frozen in time. For such a gentle child, this was so out of character. Then she started to giggle uncontrollably, we all did, but she was also SO shocked at what she had done that she started to cry too. The more she cried, the more she laughed, until we were all laughing so hard our tummies ached.

This might sound odd, but I believe that in Ella, I found my soul mate. The definition of soulmate is a person ideally suited to another. I’m not sure that’s meant to be found in a daughter but it is what it is. She is so much like me, she’s a mirror of me, and so parenting her has been fairly easy actually but also quite challenging because I saw so much of myself I needed to work on. I know exactly how she is feeling, when she is feeling it and how to deal with it. I know her thoughts when she’s thinking them and I know the thoughts she is going to think. I taught her as much as I could in the almost 10 years she was with us, but she taught me volumes.

Ella is the most courageous person I know. I don’t need to tell you about her personality – the people here who know her, know exactly the person she is. She wore her heart on her sleeve and had a special way of getting into people’s hearts – without even knowing it. She didn’t try to do it – she just did it. What many of you don’t know is the courage she possessed. Ella was insecure in her ability but never insecure in Ella. She was so driven – she knew what she wanted to do even though it terrified her, she just didn’t know she could do it. I know she’s looking at me like that as I tell you this…Ella was afraid of every new thing, from climbing to the top of a high water slide to meeting a new teacher to walking into the school hall to participate in Steddford. At first she’d need our encouragement to do something that scared her, not anymore. As a small child she used to carry around a little pink heart – she’d keep it in her hand or in her pocket, it was her courage heart. I gave it to her to help her find her courage – she eventually passed that heart onto someone else and went forward without it. She now finds something that scares her, squeezes my hand as tight as she can, opens the flood gates, lifts her head up high and meets her fear head on. What I admired most about her was that she didn’t try to hide those tears from the other kids, afraid that she would be teased. She didn’t care, she was being Ella – and the fact that her friends didn’t give her a hard time is testament to the friends she had. They knew her too and they’d just wrap her up in friendly hugs. Today I wish I had that little pink courage heart in my hand, I’m certainly going to need it as time goes on. Instead I have her Sleepy Bear – who she snuggled every night.

The last few days I’ve spent on autopilot, living on the top level, not able to think further than where I am right now. Even the memories I have of her I must control because I cannot go deeper. Deeper to the raw emotion. Deeper to the event that took her, or the moment after that I saw her and held her. Deeper to the regrets and I most certainly cannot allow myself to sit and think about everything she – and we – are going to miss out on. As Dr Seuss says in his book “Oh, the places you’ll go!” : “Today is the day. Your mountain is waiting. So get on your way”

That kid was going to move mountains, I have no doubt of it.

On Ella’s birthday Jemma woke up and the very first thing she said was, “Mama, Nelson Mandela is dead but every year we celebrate his birthday, so today we must celebrate Ella’s” I told her that was exactly what we were going to be doing. Jem’s reference to Nelson Mandela made me smile. I knew then that Ella would more than likely be spending the day with the great Mr Mandela. She would shyly warm up to him, unknowingly win him over, and then have no qualms telling him how she felt about the current “people in power” and what she would do to change things – if only she were president!

Ella wanted to be a lawyer and an artist and certainly had the intellect and the talent for both.

Very recently, Ella can running into the house waving a piece of paper in the air, telling me that it was very important and that she was going to do it. Intrigued I sat down to see what my daughter was so excited about - and fell into the world of the Chairman’s Awards – held at school annually for the Gr 4 – 7’s. She had already chosen the 4 activities she was going to do : Winter Solitaire, Hiking, 5 days of work and Art Critique. I was as excited as she was – and so proud that she had chosen to embark on this journey with no encouragement from us. It was an independently made decision and she was so excited that her cheeks were flushed and her grin was ear to ear. What an incredible opportunity – I knew she’d learn, thrive and excel. I’m gutted that she’s lost this opportunity. If any of her school friends are here that are going to participate in the Chairman’s Awards, maybe spare a little thought for Ella while you’re working. Look out for her, she’s not going to miss out on it! Make it your best work children – it’s a wonderful opportunity for learning and leadership.

For those of you here who didn’t know Ella that well, I received a message from one of the incredible Moms who have formed a support group for me. The message read like this; Yellow is the colour of sunshine. It is associated with joy, happiness, intellect and energy. It definies positivity, clarity, charm, optimism, honour and loyalty. It arouses cheerfulness and is the one colour seen before all colours.

Let us remember Ella for all these magnificent qualities. She embodied them all.

It’s spot on. There are people out there who somehow, despite not having spent too much time with her, knew her very well and I guess that gives further testament to who Ella is.

She didn’t stand out in a crowd because she was loud but she was noticed because she was quietly powerful.

For many, many years Ella had a terrible cough. It would come on every two weeks or so and she would cough constantly for days – unable to stop long enough to eat, sleep and sometimes attend school. It started when she was 3 and petered out early last year. Fortunately her pre-primary school teachers, and the amazing primary school teachers we had from grade 1 to grade 3– Mrs De Souza, Mrs Boesh and Ms Maritz, came to recognize that cough. She wasn’t sick, it was largely a reaction to whatever was going on in her world at the time. I hated that cough – so did she, but in hindsight it was something that drew us closer together and I believe it’s where our bond grew and solidified. She and I would sit awake through the nights when it was really bad, reading books, chatting (if she could), steaming, sipping honey and lemon tea. We spent a massive amount of time together when the rest of the world was sleeping. We’d greet the sunrise, sitting in bed, hand in hand, exhausted and then hit the new day head on.

Looking back at the cough now that Ella is gone, I realise that as much as we both grew to hate it, it gave us lots of extra time together and tightened an already strong bond. I am glad though that the 6-8 months of her life were cough free and thank the amazing Dr Travis Mitchell, chiropractor and now friend, for giving that to Ella.

I’ve felt Ella in the days she’s been gone. A friend went shopping for us, while in the shops she deliberated over a packet of sweets for Jemma, she picked up a few different options before she decided on a bag of speckled eggs – Ella’s favourite. I think she way saying hi to us, her sister especially.

I’ve seen her when I’ve closed my eyes for a minute, sitting beside me smiling. On opening my eyes I felt a great sense of happiness and peace.

I’ve been outside at the gate and caught the scent of the candle we light for her, wafting on the air around me. No one else picked up on the smell, I knew it was for me.

“My Ellie Bee, I love you, I miss you. I ache for you. I long to hold you in my arms, to have your long and beautiful hair tickling my nose as I hide my face in your neck. I don’t know how to continue without you. I’m scared, in fact I’m petrified.”

When Jemma was born I didn’t think that I would be able to find the extra love to love another baby as much as I did Ella, but of course I did – as any parent does. I’ve enveloped both of them in my love and done a pretty good job of being a Mom – if I say so myself.

Motherhood is fierce and gentle. It is up and down. It is magic and madness.

To me, who had never so much as held a baby or changed a nappy before my baby girls arrived, motherhood fit like a glove. It is all I want to be. I changed my life to fit around being Mom to Ella and Jemma. I’ve even recently quit my job so that I can work from home but also have enough time to spend learning SS, LO, Geo and Tech with Ella and then to start the reading process all over again with Jemma. Part of that decision was also to teach my girls, Ella specifically at that stage, that taking risks are scary but must sometimes be done. Now she is gone and I have a hole in my heart around which so much love clings.

My Jem, you had the greatest sister. All she wanted to do was teach you and help you and love you. You’re going to miss her but as you grow older I hope you will remember the bond you shared and keep her safe in your heart. I know she will be beside you and she will even reach out to guide you.

Jenna-Lee, you were Ella’s safe and she was yours. Thank you my sweetheart for being that for Ella.

Keegs, you toughened Ella up a bit. Didn’t tiptoe around her – treated her like you do your own sister. I think it took her a little while to get used to you – but then she gave as good as she got. Thank you for looking after all 3 of our girls.

Francis, you took her into your heart – the same as you’ve done with Jem – and loved her. And you managed to do it without stepping on her Dad’s toes, always respectful and cognizant of Ella’s relationship with her Dad. And the million other things you’ve done…..

Mom, you’ve been my rock. I do not know what I would do without you. You fetch and carry the girls all over the place – sometimes with just a moment’s notice. You feed them, love them and do those naughty Granny things with them that the parents often don’t get to hear of!

Steve, you’re an amazing person and an awesome Dad. She loves you so much.

You’ve been through hell. Thank you for keeping the worst from me – I just can’t go down that road yet. One day, for my healing and for yours, we will have to travel down that dark and painful road together – and come out ok.

Ella’s friends….wow! You loved her and she still loves you. You can keep her in your heart for as long as you need her. Thank you for the flowers, the letters and for helping Jem too. And don’t be shy to rush over for a hug when you see me at school.

Parents, hold your kids tight. Reality kicks in and at the end of the day there is sport to be played, homework to complete, tests to study for. I wish our schools were able to place less pressure on the kids so that their home time becomes their down time – their opportunity to spend with family and friends. Every now and again, throw down those chores, write a letter to a teacher saying that your child didn’t do his homework because you wanted to take him out for a milkshake, or for a walk or a bike ride – or you just wanted to lie on the couch to snuggle and chat.

Let’s take the passing of my little girl and give it wings. Don’t let it be for nothing. Learn something, do something.

And in so saying, I ask the friends I have here to please watch over me. I’m a Mom of two children. Walking through the shops yesterday with just one little girl, I felt like I’d lost a limb – except that I wish it was only a limb I had lost instead of part of my reason for living.

Jemma needs me and I’ll be strong for her. I’ll grow with her, teach her, guide her, love her fiercely. What I ask of you friends, is that you watch over me and make sure that I allow Jemma to be the remarkable individual that she is. I never want to say to her, or to Jen and Keegan, “But Ella would do it that way”. She’s an intelligent, independent little girl with beautiful characteristcs all of her own. She’s fearless and Ella used to envy the ease with which Jem so easily takes things in her stride. Little did she know that she did the same thing, just the long way round.

I love you Jemma Roo.

I know we’ll never have the answers as to why this happened.

. . . have patience with everything unresolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves
as if they were locked rooms or books
written in a very foreign language.
Don't search for the answers,
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps then, some day far in the future,
you will gradually, without even noticing it,
live your way into the answer.

There was no foul play, there is no blame. Ella was living her passion at the time, she was in her happy place – she was on a horse.

She knew that as she grew and had other stresses in her life that she would be able to go to her happy place – to the stables or the farm where Steve lives and be with her horses. This would be for Ella;

My horse’s feet are as swift as rolling thunder. He carries me away from all my fears. And when the world threatens to fall asunder, his mane is there to wipe away my tears

I’m sad that she never got to live her passion further. I have no doubt she would have excelled. Right now horses are not my favourite creatures but for Ella I will embrace them.

To all the other people who love her and have helped us through this, I am so sorry for your pain. Remember this…

You made it through yesterday, you are making it through today and you will make it through tomorrow.

A friend told us he had a vision: of Ella riding a white horse across a beautiful green lawn with God waiting with open arms to hug her. He felt God telling him to let us know that Ella is safely with him.

Thanks to family, friends and BBC….."