A column from the local paper, this is the 3rd column she's written about Allie. Thought some of you would like to read it.
Allie left us 'same way she came - loved'
10:23 PM CDT on Tuesday, September 14, 2004
By Jacquielynn Floyd / The Dallas Morning News
Allie Scott slipped away Monday night. She died the way I would choose for myself, the way I would choose for anybody: peacefully and quietly, surrounded by the people who loved her best.
The last things she heard and saw were their soothing voices and familiar faces.
The terminal illness and loss of a 9-month-old baby is such a cruel disruption of the natural order that a lot of people can't even bear to imagine it. But Allie's young parents coped with grace and wisdom that, day after day, left me speechless with admiration.
I first wrote about Allie and her parents, Jenny and Andrew, last month. They were still holding out hope for a cure, or at least remission of their baby's leukemia, even though an earlier stem cell transplant didn't seem to be working.
Even on the worst days, Jenny kept up an online account of Allie's progress on a family Web page Andrew designed, www.scotthouse hold.com.
Her candid daily journal, spread by word of cybermouth, eventually reached upward of 10,000 readers daily. Complete strangers were converted to "Allie fans" who sent messages of support, meals, toys or just their prayers.
They applauded every sign of progress, ached with sympathy at every setback. I was one of them.
By early this month, Allie's family knew that they would probably lose her:
I alternate between wanting to beg her not to leave us, and wanting to let her know it's OK to go if she is ready, Jenny wrote on Sept. 5. I don't want her to live a life that is filled with pain and discomfort. That isn't a life.
Most wrenching are the little details showing that even while the cancer got stronger, Allie was an engaging baby who blossomed in response to love and care and attention. She cut five new teeth; she learned to blow a hearty Bronx cheer; she babbled affably in baby language. She would reach out wonderingly and caress the nearest human face.
Sept. 6: It amazes me that she continues to do new things. Her newest things involve human contact she craves it.
A last-ditch experimental drug failed to slow the leukemia's spread. Last week, Allie's parents and doctors agreed to stop medical treatment and focus her care on "comfort measures." Jenny's worst scenario every parent's worst was coming true.
But Jenny found time to comfort the mother of a man in a neighboring hospital room who was failing rapidly:
Our neighbor Ted is coming to the close of his life ... I had to speak to May. We held each other and cried. Both mothers wanting no more suffering for our babies. Doesn't matter that her baby is much older than mine, he is her baby no less.
Last Friday, Jenny explained in her journal why the family would stay in the 12th-floor room at Medical City Dallas Hospital instead of taking their baby home to die: This hospital has become Allie's home. Our home, too. These people who live here with us are more than just neighbors. Taking Allie home is not an option ... we don't want to uproot her from what she knows. We need the strength that the doctors and nurses pass on to us.
On Friday night, friends brought cake and champagne to the hospital. Allie's family and friends drank a toast to honor her life.
On Saturday night, hundreds that is correct, hundreds of friends, relatives and extended-family "Allie fans" gathered on the hospital parking lot for a candlelight vigil.
A woman who drove from Austin to be there told me she had never met Jenny before but felt from reading her online journal "like she's been a friend for years."
Jenny, who was a middle school French teacher in Plano until her baby got sick, was astonished to see old friends, fellow teachers, former students and loving strangers.
There was such a sense of warmth and community outpouring from everyone. I asked for my students to raise their hands. Then a voice yells out, "We love you, Mrs. Scott!"
It was one of her favorite class clowns.
On Monday, Allie, suffering now with cancer that had spread to her brain and nervous system, needed extra medicine to keep the pain at bay. At 4 p.m., Jenny wrote:
The truth of the matter is that we don't want her to hurt anymore. Both of us have held her and calmly told her that it is okay to let go. We don't want her to suffer anymore.
She is surrounded by love. She will never know hate. Ever. She will leave this world the same way she came loved.
Allie died quietly a little after 11 p.m. Her brief life stands as testimony to the old saw, the Bible lesson, the universal human truth call it what you want that love and faith trump death and grief.
Allie Scott lived and died surrounded by the people who loved her best. It's the death I would choose for anybody.
It's the life I would choose as well.
E-mail jfloyd@dallasnews.com