Errol Milner Clifford 2006-2009

Errol Milner Clifford was born with a significant heart defect and a cognitive disability that prevented him from walking or talking. As we grieved the child we had anticipated, Errol’s full-bodied smile and irrepressible laugh turned our sorrow into joy, and taught us that many of the best things in life are unexpected. Inspired by Errol’s delightful spirit, friends, family, and neighbors rallied to support our family’s significant emotional, physical, and financial needs, through countless acts of selfless generosity. When Errol’s courageous heart finally failed him on December 23, 2009 we were left numb with grief. In these dark hours we listen hopefully for the echoes of Errol’s brilliant laugh. This blog is the story (starting from present and working back to Errol's birth) of the life and times of the amazing Errol Clifford.


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Moving Closer



















The last time Errol had open-heart surgery he was in the hospital for six weeks. Despite the joys of hospital food, those six weeks were the worst month and a half of our lives. I doubt it was much fun for Errol either. During his recovery, Errol had so many infections, collapsed lungs, and (still) inexplicable medical problems that Dr. Hines nicknamed him, “Curveball”.

During that horrible summer, there were a number of times that little Errol teetered on the edge of life. It’s shocking to think that if things had only gone ever so slightly for the worse, we wouldn’t have known the joy that Errol brings us (he shrieked for joy for almost an hour straight last night). We feel like the luckiest people in the world to have both our boys.

Last week, we were told to prepare for a long recovery in the hospital. We hope they were kidding, but cardio-thoracic surgeons aren’t really known for their practical jokes about post-operative healing. Although long wasn’t precisely defined, we hope it means less than six weeks. We won’t count on it. 

Errol doesn’t have any idea what’s about to hit him. Which, in a way, is comforting, but in another way is horribly troubling. I can’t bear to think about sweet innocent Errol smiling up at the doctor who is about to break his sternum and crack his ribs.

Why do the innocent suffer? 

It hasn’t been an easy road for Errol. If I could have one wish it would be to heal Errol.

Errol's surgery gets closer and closer. The only thing propelling us forward is the desire to get through the suffering.

4 comments:

Ms. Jennifer said...

Hey Guys,
I have been checking you page often this summer. I know the upcoming events with Errol are going to be difficult. Please know that I will keep you all in my thoughts and prayers! Give Errol a big hug for me!

Ms. Jennifer

Anonymous said...

I've been reading this blog for nearly as long as it's been up and have never commented, but wanted to let you know that my family is thinking of Errol and your family. My nephew (born in March '06...close to Errol's birthday?) had been diagnosed with RTS. I stumbled on your site at a time when I was initially (frantically) looking for answers and this site - for a lot of reasons ranging from being comforted by familiar struggles to wit to political humor - kept me sane and helped me be a better support to my sister's family. You should know that your brave, humorous updates and your family's attitude have reached farther and impacted more people than you may know. Thank you and lots of strength (and humor) during this challenging time.

Sincerely,
A Father of Two and an Uncle to Twelve

Marigene said...

Dear Cousins,

I send you energy of light to surround you and fill you, esp. Erroll. To endure suffering is an impossible task, and cannot be done without help from many - esp. the spirit world, however that appears to one. Relief often comes in small ways, but sometimes miraculous ones - and I do pray for miracles to be present for you all.

Peace,
Marigene

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