A Letter: From Cancer to Grief

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If I told you to close your eyes and imagine being told your child has cancer, your imagination still
can’t take you to the depths of the feelings you’d actually have. It’s unfathomable well after you’ve
been told. Christian turned 6 just three months before his diagnosis. After a week of going back and
forth to doctors trying to figure out the bump behind his ear and seeing it get bigger, we ended up in
the emergency room to get scans. I was sat down away from my children and told the unimaginable
“it’s a tumor and we believe it to be cancer”. The. Whole. World. Stopped.
After that, we’d hear a bunch of lingo and medical terms we could hardly understand, torn apart from
our other children, and sleep deprived. Christian was diagnosed with a “rare” Stage IV Embryonal
Rhabdomyosarcoma (Em.bry.on.al Rhab.do.myo.sarcoma) and went through a number of tests, scans
and into a world that only got scarier for him. He completed treatment and rang the bell on May 23,
2022.
Eight months after that, Christian relapsed with a new cancer. a “guaranteed” terminal cancer. in his
brain. Leptomeningeal Disease. There is no chance of comprehending how he miraculously beat the
first cancer and now has a deadly, incurable cancer. In January 2023, he was given 4-6 months to
live. Everyday felt like a countdown to his life. It was. But he exceeded this prognosis by a year and
four months.
In May 2023, more heartache came when routine blood tests showed a huge white blood count
spike and was determined to be blood cancer. Acute Myeloid Leukemia. a 1% chance cancer. This
treatment would keep Christian in the hospital for consecutive months. As time went on, it became
battle of the blood and brain cancers. Like tug of war.
During the next year, there were multiple viruses, infections, blood transfusions, platelet
transfusions, a brain injury due to intrathecal chemo, brain biopsy, seizures, scans, lumbar punctures,
bodily injuries by medical staff, port surgery, feeding tube surgery, port accesses/deaccess, blood
clots, and many night/days away from his family. NO MATTER WHAT, Christian always found his
way back to his joy, his smile, and his faith.
On May 23, 2024, at 2 AM, Christian, 9, peacefully passed away from his parent’s arms and into the
arms of his Lord and Savior greeting him into his eternal life. Pure Joy. Pure Heartbreak. We rang the
bell for our sweet boy marking the end of his treatment forever; synchronically, it was exactly 2
years to the day he rang the bell for the first time.
Our family will carry grief for a lifetime, but the beauty is carrying the joy in our hearts the same he
did. The sadness of his physical absence counters the happiness of sharing his legacy. The gratitude
of knowing he’s healed, whole, and made perfect once again extinguishes the despair. Only God
knows the why’s. We just trust we will all be with Christian in Heaven one day to know it ourselves.
#ChristianBeatCancer #CMCF 

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In Loving Memory of Christian A. Garcia
03-22-2015 - 5-23-2024