At Alexander's funeral mass, his mother gave, what I thought, was an powerful and passionate eulogy. With her permission, I'm adding it here.
My last interaction with my son Alexander was on Sunday February 24th. My 17-year-old daughter Katrina and I were sitting in the living room watching the Academy awards. I heard Alexander bounding down the stairs the way he has done since he was a small boy. It was a skip, step, skip, step, then jump at the bottom of the stairs. I turned my head and watched as he came into view. It was the first time in about a month that I'd glimpsed the return of that confident swagger of a 2nd year university student. I said "Hey, Alexander". He said "Hi, mom". I looked into his face and saw a peacefulness, calmness and serenity that I hadn't seen in a while. I gave a sigh of relief. Had we turned the corner? Were we back on the right track? As I wanted to check in with Alexander, I asked him to come with me to the basement so we could be alone. I knew he had a test and an assignment due that week. I asked him, "So, what's the plan, Alexander?" He smiled and looked me straight in the eye without wavering or looking away. He said, "Don't worry, mom. I have a plan".
Less than 24 hours later, I was standing at the edge of an emotional cliff. I could take a step forward and let my grief, pain and anger consume me. Or I could take a step back, and make my priority mental health awareness and #breakthestigma. I've decided to take a step back. As I take my cathartic next steps, I will share only positive memories of my beloved son.
When I think of Alexander, the first thing that comes to mind is how he liked to do things methodically and meticulously. He believed any problem can be solved if logic can be applied. In his first year at university, he came home one day and told me he had volunteered to participate in a forum. He would meet with math and computer science high school teachers and give feedback on how to improve the way the subjects are taught. The night of the forum, he was proud of the feedback he had provided. He told computer science teachers to stop focusing so much on coding. He explained to me how students would just sit down and start coding. If they ran into problems, they'd have to add patches or continue writing an inefficient code. Inefficient coding did not exist in Alexander's world. His recommendation was that teachers focus more on design, the thinking behind the coding. My heart swelled with pride as I thought my son was such a bright guy with such a bright future.
Alexander was also a genuinely nice guy with an easy smile. He was particularly good and gentle with children. I had to go to school to learn how to be empathetic or how to listen actively. Those skills came naturally to him with children. I've seen him squat down to their level to talk to them or console them. He was the favourite of many younger cousins. Relatives told me they did not know how to tell younger children or grandchildren that Alexander would no longer be at family gatherings.
Alexander and my husband bonded over their passion for hockey. I remember the first time Alexander played in a hockey tournament when he was 7 years old, and my husband was the team manager. I was quite surprised that Alexander knew the drill with regard to what the team manager does before the game. Alexander showed me the game sheet, confirmed it was filled out correctly, attached it to a clip board and told me we had to get it to tournament management in time before the next game. The whole time we walked he talked in an excited voice about important hockey matters. Then one day a wall of silence went up that neither I nor my husband could break.
I'm a Care Coordinator and work for the Mississauga Halton LHIN's Home and Community Care program. I am based at Trillium Health Partners - Credit Valley Hospital site. I was recently on the Mental Health Unit and was very impressed with the commitment and compassion of the staff, and the programs they offered. I heard a nurse report that a father had dropped off clothing for his son and left because the son would not see him. It tears my heart to hear those words because my husband and I had gone through the same thing. Alexander was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. I now lay awake at night and wonder what if Alexander had been brought to Credit Valley Hospital? What if he had been admitted to the mental health unit and interacted with the wonderful staff there? Would the outcome have been different?
It's time to stop passing the puck. In Alexander's memory, please do donate to Credit Valley Hospital's mental health unit. Let's do our part to support an Alexander approved efficient, methodological, meticulous and winning game plan so that grieving families in our community do not gather again, and again, and again under such tragic circumstances. Rest in peace dearest Alexander. You were greatly loved by your mother, father, sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. You filled our lives with so much happiness and will be missed, but never forgotten. #breakthestigma.
