The Eulogy of
Rosalie Parisa Damavandy

How does one approach this daunting task before all of you, our family, friends, community, and the key people in our lives. How do we adequately describe to you what our beautiful angel meant to us.

I was reflecting a couple of months ago, in a happier time, as I was inputting all of our names into an app for a trip we were taking. With a sense of parental pride I typed in what I thought was the perfect name for the perfect child. Rosalie Parisa.

Rosalie, meaning beautiful little rose in French, and Parisa, which has always been one of my favorite Persian girl names which means like a fairy or angel. Her name captures the essence of her that we will always carry in our hearts, a perfect angelic rose. In our household, however, she was known simply as “Baby Rosie”.

News of our pregnancy with her came as welcome relief during a hard time in our family. We had recently dealt with a major health scare with Florencia, lost a future niece or nephew through miscarriage, and lost our Nonna, Florencia’s maternal grandmother. Baby Rosie’s impending arrival brought us immediate comfort and joy.

Florencia’s pregnancy with Rosie was marked by eager anticipation and was altogether healthy. We were warned that going from 2 to 3 kids would represent a big jump in difficulty as parents but feeling like our lives were already a joyful mess, we were eager to take on this challenge.

What arrived in our lives was nothing short of astonishing. We were given a big, beautiful, healthy baby girl with big blue eyes, wispy light brown hair, and a scrunchy smile. A true miracle.

Watching baby Rosie grow was one of the most gratifying experiences of our lives. She was at once an old-soul and a wild playful child. Her calm, pensive demeanor with knowing eyes and contemplative gaze were juxtaposed with her unabashed love of being outside, music, celebrations involving clapping, books at night, brushing her teeth, nursing, and unloading dirty dishes from the dishwasher. The moment a song would come on, she was immediately dancing and clapping.  

Two of her great passions were morning family snuggles in our bed, parents and siblings and all, and evening family wrestles. What can I say, she fought hard and, in her own loving way, she fought dirty. Eye pokes, face scratches, slaps to the back of the head. It was hard to enforce the rules as when reprimanded, her response was always a full face toothy smile and a deep guttural joy-filled growl.

Baby Rosie loved her siblings. No matter what they were up to, she wanted to keep up and be in the mix. Despite her young age, she settled into our family’s routine perfectly. Some of her first words were “Paw Patrol” which she would sing to her siblings as they would watch the show or play with the figurines. As you can imagine any time multiple kids played together, there was always some conflict or small fight about a toy. Whenever she saw her older siblings bristling over something, she would immediately respond to the scene, observe what was going on, and insert herself in the middle of her brother and sister as our family’s natural peacemaker. And just like that, her older siblings would move on to something else often leaving the toy in question for Rosie to play with.

Her older siblings’ gentle love for her was also something to behold. They would accept the occasional extra emphatic head pat, face touch, and hair play without retaliation or serious complaint. They understood this was one of Rosie’s ways of showing her love and they would often smile, laugh, and hug and kiss her in response. The restraint shown was exemplary of the unconditional love Penny and George had for her.

She was such a wonderful and easygoing child. She was so agreeable in fact that sometimes she would be forgotten in her high chair with only rare protest as the typical post dinner chaos ensued.  She made us feel like we were excellent parents and we could have many more children, much to the suggestion of Dad, and yet she was so angelic that we never felt the need for another child.  She fulfilled our greatest desires and life just felt perfect, how could we ask God for anything more?

She was our baby but not the freshest baby in our family as Penny likes to say. Several months after Rosie was born, our family was blessed with babies Luca and Valentina, and most recently baby Leo. She loved her baby cousins and took on a maternal role with her little next-door neighbor Vivi. Pushing her around our house in her stroller, showing her the ropes of the whole “being a baby” thing, and giving her the warmest of hugs and caresses was Rosie’s daily joy. In this way, Rosie served as a link between her older siblings and younger cousins.

Rosie and her mama had such a beautiful and unique relationship. She would follow me everywhere I went, even into the bathroom and shower. As a busy pediatrician mom trying to keep our house afloat and my notes from work completed, sometimes I just wanted a break. I feel grateful, however, that I never really got one because Rosie was persistent and she always knew where to find me in our house. An element of our relationship that I never fully understood until now was her perseverance in breastfeeding. I believe she was purposefully asking me to slow down in my life to make sure that, as our third child, she got the time and attention that she needed while giving me the opportunity to savor these tender moments with her in her short life. Every morning before work and at night before bed we nursed including her very last night. It is almost as if she wanted me to have that last contact with her to tell me “Mama, you did everything you could have ever possibly done for me.” I take comfort in knowing that, in her last moments, we were as connected as two humans could possibly be before I laid her down for her last sleep.

Rosie’s last earthly day was easy and carefree. It began with her babbling and making her sweet angelic sounds as she rolled around in her crib. Florencia took photos of her that morning because she looked so cute with her natural bob hairstyle, beaming smile, and cherry pattern pajamas. She had her usual Damavandy household special for breakfast, scrambled eggs and fruit and set about her day which included a lunch date with Vivi and George.

I had a special last night with my baby Rosie. I had a light day at work, got all my paperwork done, and arrived home totally relaxed and present which is not my ordinary mode of operating. The first person to greet me was my beautiful angel, filled with excitement and joy to see me, wearing a beautiful white dress, pink bow, and pink shoes as if she was headed to a party. She spent her final evening on earth looking like a perfect little angel. I sent our nanny home for the evening and, with the older two engrossed in Sleeping Beauty, I set the table for dinner for two. We shared a healthy home-cooked meal to the sounds of soothing Jazz recommended by one of my patients that day. We even a got a surprise visit from her grandmother Gigi and grandaunt Elaine. During our last dinner, it was as if, in a performative sense, she cycled through many of her cutest and classic mannerisms and vocalizations for me. I set dinner for our older two, took her into my arms, and snuggled with her on our sofa. I don’t know how recently you’ve been around 18 month olds but they don’t typically snuggle with you. I kissed her all over her head, face, and neck and we gazed into each other’s eyes. Shortly we were joined by her siblings for a big group snuggle, and I experienced a rare moment of absolute joy and gratitude for the gift of our children. What ensued was our last wonderful family wrestle and monster chase until Florencia got home. I even specifically told her that I had such a special night with our baby. My final evening with baby Rosie was a gift.

When I came home that night she ran into my arms and I carried her to her room. I nursed her one last time before I laid her to her final rest. The next morning our lives changed. She wasn’t making her usual sounds like she did every morning and our house seemed quiet. The moment I walked into her room her silence and stillness were deafening. After a normal autopsy, we learned that baby Rosie is one of the 525 children every year in the US who pass suddenly and without medical explanation. This condition is called Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood (or SUDC). This is a very rare condition and will hopefully not affect another family you know in your lifetime. However, when it occurs, it is devastating.  Organizations like the SUDC foundation and Boston Children’s Hospital’s Robert’s Program are essential to support families like ours and to help investigate the underlying mechanism to ultimately work to explain the unexplained. Our goal and prayer, through Rosie, is to channel the love we have for her to help build awareness and fund research so that we can work towards a future free of SUDC. Through all of your generosity, we have already raised more than $100,000 for this cause and we couldn’t be any more grateful.

We want to thank all of you for all the good and kindness that you have shown us these past 10 days. Your prayers, presence, flowers, meals, hugs, playdates with our kids, letters, and phone calls have sustained us. Most importantly we are grateful for the love you have for us, our children, and our baby Rosie because that love lives forever.

Rosie is our little angel in heaven. She was our little angelic rose on loan to us from heaven for us to cherish during her short 18 months of earthly life and will spend the rest of our natural lives watching over us, comforting us, and cheering us on until we earn the right to be reunited with her. Becoming her parents and enjoying God’s fleeting gift has forever enriched our lives.

We pray that Rosie’s spirit will continue to blossom in our hearts, reminding us to embrace both the beauty and the thorns of life with faith, love, and resilience. Thank you and may God bless you all.