It’s with a heavy heart I share the news that on March 9, 2010, little Layla Grace Marsh lost her battle with Neuroblastoma. I have been following her story since the end of February, after hearing about her from a post on Babycenter.com.
I try not to read things that will affect me emotionally, because being a fairly new mom, I do find myself being overly affected by sad stories about children. But after reading the first post on the blog, I found myself reading through the entire site, captivated and unable to stop.
You can’t help but fall in love with Layla Grace. Reading her parent’s (Ryan and Shanna Marsh) accounts of the trials and tribulations they have all gone through since Layla was diagnosed last May, and seeing photos of that beautiful, blue-eyed cherub, your heart melts.
I began following them on Twitter as well, checking for updates throughout the day with the hope that there would be good news. I cheered along with Layla’s mom Shanna when she tweeted about poopy diapers, or that Layla drank some juice and was able to keep it down. I was comforted knowing Shanna was able to hold Layla and comfort her. And I cried along with thousands of others when we heard that Layla wasn’t doing well…and when without updates for 15 hours, we somehow knew what was later confirmed:
That Layla had gone to “play with the angels” early on the morning of March 9, 2010.
While I am happy that Layla is no longer suffering or in any earthly pain, I am heartbroken. Heartbroken for her sisters and parents who will miss her every day for the rest of their lives…heartbroken for a little girl taken too soon from this world, who wanted no more than to play with her puppy and revel in butterflies and blue skies.
I asked myself, why were so many of us touched by this angel? Why was I feeling so much for a little girl and family that I had never met?
Perhaps it’s because I have a young daughter and Layla Grace reminded me of her. They share the same sparkle in their big blue eyes. Perhaps it’s just being a mother now, and feeling raw emotion for any child who is suffering. Perhaps it’s something greater than all of us.
I don’t know why I felt–I just know what I felt. Perhaps that’s the lesson of faith, working in mysterious ways.
Because Layla Grace and her family’s ordeal brought us the finest of lessons to be learned: this life is fragile, can change in a blink–and should be cherished every second. That there is still goodness in the world, and I watched it unfolding before my eyes–how people came together to raise money for the Marshes in their time of need, how people came together to pray for Layla and her family (and still continue to do that), how kindness was shown en masse.
We should embrace life as Layla did–with courage, passion, and pure happiness–even in the toughest situations. That little girl endured more in 10 months than most of us ever will in a lifetime–yet she did so with a smile and a spirit that shone so brightly.
Despite losing their beautiful baby girl, her parents are now on a mission to help spread awareness of Neuroblastoma, which I had never heard of before reading Layla’s story. I am thankful to the Marsh family for that. And I’m thankful for them sharing their little girl with the world, to help remind us what’s important, help us become better parents, cherish our children, and to remember to have love and kindness for others.
I know I will remember Layla Grace each day, and do my best to continue a legacy of kindness in her honor. Though I never met her in person, she will remain forever in my heart.
Sleep well, little angel.
