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No matter how eloquent, words can never convey my sense of loss over Alison’s death.  It is true of every parent who has lost a child.  There is comfort in knowing that we are not alone.  Still, this is a personal experience, and not one I would wish upon even my worst enemy.  Alison is one of three children I have buried.  The loss of any of them is painful, but losing Alison has been the most sorrowful because we had nearly eleven years to get to know this sweet child.

Once I was asked what Alison’s handicaps meant to me.  I responded that I mourned the fact that she never would climb a tree; she would never ride a bicycle.  She never would have a boyfriend, enjoy a first kiss, get married or have children.  She never would live a natural life.  It saddened me.  Yet, Ali brought a sense of joy to my life…to all our lives.  A neighbor in LaPlace, LA, once commented that Ali’s mother and I must be saints to take such loving care of Alison.  I was quick to tell him that it was Alison who was the saint and that we were blessed to have her in our lives.  I told him that even if I knew ahead of time the tribulations we would experience with Alison’s medical problems, I would choose to experience them again because of the blessing she was to us.

Ali only asked for attention.  She didn’t beg for the latest toy, or to go to that popular fast food place with the arches.  She didn’t throw temper tantrums because she didn’t get a certain pair of shoes or a cute dress.  She simply wanted our love and attention.  In return, she offered an abundance of the same.  She was a gentle child.  One of my fondest memories is that she loved falling asleep in my arms, even at the age of ten.  How many fathers have that privilege?  Ali could have been a screamer.  Instead, she was a charmer…what a charmer!

I am a reporter of facts, not a poet.  I don’t have the ability to weave flowery phrases…but my family…Alison’s family…is talented in that way.  It is true that our family mourns Alison, yet we rejoice in her life.  Here is what her mother, Denise Boyd, had to say:  It’s been a little over 23 years since you came into our lives and a little over 12 since you left them, at least in a physical sense. The years since you departed seem to have rushed by yet they also seem to have dragged on, taking me kicking and screaming with them.