A Personal Tribute

Friday was the hardest day of my life so far.

Two weeks ago, Thursday 17 October, Riki had just started making dinner and I was with mum in the living room - we were about to sit down for a family games night. As I went to help Riki in the kitchen, mum answered the phone and shouted that my cousin's house was on fire.

Obviously we dropped everything and went straight to her house, which was less than a two-minute drive down the road. As we were leaving, we thought it would be something simple, like a chip-pan fire. We got to the end of our street and saw a fire engine speeding past, sirens and blue lights and all, our hearts sank and we started to worry.

We arrived to find fire engines, ambulances and so many by-standers we could barely reach the house.

The press were like vultures, they were there in less than 30 minutes and were right in our faces. I was absolutely disgusted. They have provided news stories and articles which were erroneous and, in some instances, outright slanderous. I felt it was my duty to tell the truth.

My cousin had been out at her weekly marching band practice and had left her two children, a six year-old boy, D, and two year-old girl, L, with our other cousin, aged 15, who was babysitting with his eleven year-old brother.

I found D standing in the next-door neighbour's doorway, in just his underpants. I instantly took off my cardigan, wrapped him up and scooped him into my arms, sending Riki to the car for another coat for him.  I located my cousins, the boys who had been babysitting, and they seemed to be ok. Then I realised I hadn't seen the little girl. I started asking, "Where's the baby?", grabbing every fireman, paramedic and bystander, "Where's baby? Where's L?" Nobody was able to help and eventually we learned that she had already been taken to hospital in an ambulance.

Again, the house didn't look to be in too much of a bad state, until they opened the upstairs window and smoke started billowing out, so thick it was still window-shaped. That's when I knew it was worse than we thought.

My cousin returned from band practice, after being collected by her grandad. The first thing she did was to scream, "What's happened? Where's my babies?"

The next ten or twenty minutes are a bit of a blur. I gave D to a female paramedic who had just arrived as he hadn't been checked over yet - none of the boys had been. They wanted to take them all to hospital to check them over properly.

A police officer asked my cousin if she had a way to get to the hospital as she doesn't drive - we said that one of us would drive her. Five minutes later the police officer returned to say that he would take her in his patrol car. My mum went with her as her own mother had gone in the ambulance with the boys. Riki and I went to pick up my uncle so that he and my aunt, the babysitters' parents, could go to the hospital to be with their sons. I left the scene, stating, "She'll be fine. I'll get everyone praying for her".

We were in our house when we learned that L had passed away. She was lifeless when she'd arrived at the hospital but they had done everything they could. My aunt broke down, obviously, but I don't think I'd quite accepted it yet. We drove to the hospital almost in silence, my aunt had calmed down as she wanted to be strong for the boys - they weren't aware.

My mum was in the family room with my cousin when they were told the news. My cousin's mum hadn't arrived yet. I can't imagine how difficult that was. My cousin kept asking my mum to tell her it wasn't true saying, "Auntie R, do something". When we arrived we went in to the boys and stayed there to keep them company. They didn't know and it was the most difficult couple of hours of my life, especially when the nurse gave D a cuddly toy and after playing with it for a while, he stated, "I'm going to give this to L".

That night I drove my cousin home, along with her mum and little D. Obviously she couldn't go to her house so she stayed with her mum. It was a difficult journey. My cousin was just numb; in total shock but trying to be strong for her six year-old son. I didn't know what to say, I just kept asking if she was warm enough, cool enough, etc. I was so pathetic.

The inquest was opened but adjourned on the same day. It'll re-open in six months but we are expecting the cause to be an electrical fault. There was no smoke alarm in the property; I can't go into too many details due to the inquest but I can say that my 15 year-old cousin was amazing. I'm so proud of the way he reacted so quickly. He even took off his t-shirt, soaked it in water and tried to get into the room to save L but unfortunately, he was unable to. He did everything he possibly could have and nobody else would have been able to do any more. If he wasn't so mature and reactive, there could well have been another three victims. He needs our support and prayers during this time as I doubt he'll ever be able to move on fully.

Friday was L's funeral. I've never seen such a small casket, it was purple with white daisies. The service was beautiful but devastating. It still didn't seem real. The press were there, again. I couldn't believe that such an emotional and sacred ceremony wasn't safe from the tabloids. One newspaper even has quotations taken from the Reverend's eulogy. How they got those, I'll never know. Another newpaper has a video of us on their website, from one angle it looks as though the reporter was lying on the ground, waiting for us to walk past with the coffin.

I haven't really allowed myself to cry or grieve as I've always been the strong one in my family and I'm scared that if I start, I won't be able to stop again. I've let a few tears escape but I know that eventually, if I keep them inside, it'll turn to strength. We all deal with things differently and I guess this is just my way.

***

This is my family - it isn't just a news story or a juicy tidbit to gossip over. Our family lost one of our children in one of the most tragic ways possible and we're grieving. It has taken a lot of thought and debate about whether I should post this but I guess the reason I wanted to share it with you all is because I know there'll be questions. The news have reported just the bits and pieces they wanted to, complete with the wrong hospital, the wrong ages and even the wrong number of children in the house - who knows what else was wrong - I can only tell the facts as I saw them.

My cousin lost her baby girl. A six year-old boy lost his baby sister. They will never see her smiling face again, never hear her voice. They'll never get to see her first day of school or her first attempt at writing her name. I can't imagine how that feels. In her novel, My Sister's Keeper, Jodi Picoult writes, "In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who lose a child" - I believe this is the case because there's simply no pain like it.

A lot of people will question my faith in this time. I've heard people say, "I'm not very religious but if there is a God, why would He allow this to happen?" or, "Why would God do this?"

I'm not going to lie to you; I've struggled with this question myself but I've never doubted God. I have to accept that God has a plan which is bigger than all of us. I think we have to take comfort wherever we can find it in these times and I guess I find comfort in the idea that most of us spend our whole lives striving to get to heaven; God allowed L to get there without having to face the hardships of life. Who's to know what she might have had to endure in her life, all I know is that God has a plan and we have to respect that plan, and who knows, perhaps even be grateful for it in the long term.

As for the "How can God do this?" argument, I don't believe in placing blame. God gives us free will and He didn't stand there in the bedroom with a lighter or a match. He didn't make this happen. He might have known it was going to happen, but I don't believe He orchestrated it. He just has to be there to deal with the heartbreak and, if we'll allow Him, to comfort us and give us the peace that we so need in these times.

My family is strong and very tight-knit. I thank God for them and their strength but I ask each one of you to hold us up in your prayers, especially my cousin and her son, as they prepare to move into a new house without their beautiful princess, I pray that they will feel the loving and comforting arms of our God and that there will be a peace coming over them. Although there will always be a hollowness in their home and in their hearts, I pray that L's memory will live on.

I also ask you to pray for my cousin, the 15 year-old boy who was babysitting. He is struggling in a lot of ways but I pray that he will also be comforted and that any spirit of guilt or blame will be loosed from him. That young man deserves a medal, not gossip and malicious rumours preventing him from returning to school. I pray that he will have peace and will be able to move on, as much as possible. That he will sleep soundly at night, without images and scenarios running around in his mind.

I also pray for the wider family: grandparents; great-grandparents; aunts; uncles; and cousins. I ask that you will join with me in praying for my family. I am upholding them in prayer as much as I can but it's a big job for one person. I pray that we will become even stronger as a family unit and that together, we will get through the heartache and devastation. I pray that God's plan and purpose will be revealed and that my family may come to know Him through the comfort and peace that
they feel.

Lastly, I ask you to join me in thanking God for the short life that L had - the short time that we were blessed enough to have had with her and the impact that she has made on so many lives; not just her family and friends but the wider community and even the nation. Complete strangers have been so touched by this tragedy and have been more generous than anyone could ever imagine. Even in such a difficult and trying time, we need to find times to rejoice and thank the Lord for His goodness!

As I said earlier, we have different ways of letting out our emotions and grief. Thank you for allowing me an outlet for mine.

-Lisa