March 5, 2001-March 12, 2001

The following eulogies were written and then read at Nicholas' memorial service held at Christ the King Catholic Church in Athens, Ohio on March 14, 2001. The first one was written by his father and the second by his mother.

To my son, Nicholas Ptolomy,

I remember the day you were born, less than two weeks ago. You were in such a hurry that you gave us quite a scare (and left quite a mess). But then I remember the nurse, holding you high, running from the operating room to the waiting doctors and nurses. They worked hard to help you hand on, and when I was finally allowed to be with you, I held your hand and was amazed at the strength that gripped back.

I spent he first night with you in Columbus, relieved by your obvious progress. With the fear for your safety moved to the background, I marveled at this creation that was my son. The power of the emotion, the love I had for you from those moments on shook me. Those moments with you were joy. My hopes for you were renewed as test results came back, proving you had beaten the odds.

The next day, your mother and I came up to stay with you. We were both amazed at how such a small child could hold so much fight. When they called us, certain you were leaving us, we rushed to you, held your hand, and spoke softly with you, telling you how much we loved you. Within moments, you began complete recovery. All through that morning, we were beside you, holding your hand, and for the first time, seeing into those big, beautiful eyes of yours. That night, you defied the doctors again and recovered completely. We were overjoyed and each moment became more precious, and more loving as we watched you grow before our eyes, both in size and in personality.

But the aggressive methods used to preserve your life took their toll on your tiny body. Sunday night, your body began failing. The treatments held in reserve for this moment were too strong to use on you. Hours went by, and we saw you in pain. We were allowed to hold you and comfort you, and as we whispered to you how much we loved you, your pain eased. By that morning, there was nothing left to try--we were at the limits of science and medicine. We loved you so hard, and you were so strong, but there was no improvement. Your lungs were too small and too damaged by continuous respirator support to keep you with us. So we held you, unhooked from the many tubes and wires, in sad, but loving arms as you died. I am thankful we were beside you, and thankful we had the love and strength to let you go, and not force you selfishly to stay locked in a failing body with no hope of recovery.

I am sorry, my little one, that there was no peace for you in this world, only times when the love between us, the love between all of us, your family, was enough for just a little while. Your time with us was short, but your mother and I, we will love you always and keep our time together forever in our hearts. If there was no peace for you in this world, we pray you find it in the next. In fact, I know you will.

I love you, Nicholas!

We loved Nicholas even before he existed. We planned for him and were so excited when we found out he was on the way. We bought him little outfits and fuzzy blankets in anticipation of his homecoming. But, we had no idea how much we would love him until he was born. In the seven days that Nicholas lived, we got to know him and loved him more than we ever imagined possible. We knew that when his little forehead wrinkled that he was uncomfortable and just holding his head smoothed the wrinkles away. We knew what the sounds of the monitors meant and we knew that he was trying so hard to stay alive. In his searching eyes, we saw our love reflected back tenfold. And, if love could have saved him, then he would be alive right now.

Your prayers and thoughts, along with those of others around the country and the world helped us more than you or we could ever know. Although they did not keep Nicholas alive and allow him to come home with us, they gave us the strength to know when it was time to let go and gave him the peace to die without too much pain. Letting go of Nicholas was hard not only for my heart and mind, but for this mother's body that ached to hold him, suckle him at my breast, and have him inside me safe and warm like he would be.

Your prayers and thoughts allowed us to take him off the monitors and gave us a gift life no other: we were able to hold him in our arms as he died. They took him off the machines and the tubes and the needles and placed our precious baby in our arms. We held him close to us as he breathed his last few breaths. His eyes were open, trying to make sense of the shadows that were his Mommy and Daddy. He was not alone; he was with his family. We thank you for helping us be strong and we thank God for letting him go when He did so that he would not suffer another hour, another day.

For seven days, we had a light in our lives named Nicholas, and even though he is gone from this Earth that light will burn bright as long as Nick and I live. Mommy and Daddy will never forget you, Nicholas Bunny, it is time to go home.