Goodbye Daniella

It's frustrating to think that the first goodbye I have to say is one that was not even able to be said, and one that came completely by surprise. As I was just talking in my last post about saying my goodbyes and leaving Uganda, I had no idea that I would have to mourn the loss of a child. Her name was Daniella and she was 4 years old when she died in the hospital early this morning.

I haven't had much exposure to death in my lifetime (lucky for me) but the death of a child is something completely unfamiliar and I don't know how to handle it other than to just cry. I also made a video which was extremely emotional but I felt it would be a nice collection of the memories I have of her and a nice way to pay tribute to her short life. When I heard the news I was truly shocked. I know many children in the village that Carli supports have died in the past, but I had yet to really understand or experience that until today. I just saw Daniella on Monday. The last time I saw her I was reading her a story called 'The Little Elephant'. We knew she was feeling sick and had malaria (so common here) on Wednesday when she didn't show up for reading group. We found out yesterday that she had been admitted to Mulago Hospital (one of the major government hospitals in Kampala) and I remember thinking 'good, the hospital is the best place for her to get the treatment she needs. That means she will recover.' In the early hours of the morning the malaria took her life. I can't even believe it. She was so special. She is one of the children who lives in the family with my sponsor child Margret. We visited their home not long ago and I even posted this photo in my last blog post of the three of us (Margret, myself, and Daniella).

All of the children we meet and support are special in some way, but some seem to touch your heart more than others, and Daniella was definitely one of those cases. She was recently hit by a boda boda (motorcycle) and nearly died but miraculously was recovering and we were getting so excited for her to return to school in September. Now her precious life has been taken much too soon and we are only left with the reminder that this is part of reality in this village. It is not uncommon. This is the piece I struggle with as I try to sort out my feelings about this tragic event. When someone dies here, their body is buried as soon as possible (usually same day or the next day) and people pay their respects and attend the burial and some might cry but not usually. People eat food and when the day is over everyone carries on with their lives. There isn't a huge mourning period. Where I come from, death is such a big deal - especially the death of a child which is thankfully much more rare - and people take various amounts of time to mourn and it's pretty socially acceptable to be upset for some time. We don't really have time for that here... tomorrow is the monthly sponsorship meeting where all of the families that are sponsored come to check in, and we have many new children coming tomorrow who still need sponsors. These families need us and it is back to business tomorrow. Though my relationship with Daniella was brief, it had an impact on me and so does her death. All I can do is hope she is in a better place now and cry myself to sleep in the privacy of my bedroom because that is all I know and that is what feels normal to me. I just pray that tomorrow is a better day. 

Here is the video I made in loving memory of Daniella who will forever have a special place in my heart.