Memorial service

Text from Dominic's memorial service, Sept. 14, 2015 at the Esplanade in Medicine Hat


Introduction (Ronan, written by Taylor Swift, performed by Jared Brake)

‣ Master of ceremonies Trevor Prosser (family friend)
"Thank you to Jared Brake for that beautiful rendition of ‘Ronan’ by Taylor Swift. Please bear with me, and our other speakers today, if we pause, or stumble, or have to repeat ourselves or take a moment to compose ourselves today. I am so honoured, and yet so pained to be here today, and I know it’s a feeling we can all share and understand. Thank you to Sean and Trish, my closest friends, for asking me to be here as we celebrate the life of a super little man: their son, Dominic Sean Rooney.

 If you look around you right now, you will see people who are here for the same reasons, feeling the same things. We are all one today, in this room, and the hope is, you will feel safe here to express your feelings as they come. No one will judge you for a lack of tears, or an abundance of them. There was a big container of tissues as you came in, so I hope those of you who need them, found them. You may be judged a little if your cell phone rings, however. So, if you haven’t done so, please mute or turn off your phones. We all experience our grief in a different way, but we are all here today because we have the extraordinary privilege to have shared a part of Dominic’s short time with us, and that is something worth celebrating. Thank you all for being here today, in this beautiful space. I’m sure Dominic would be thrilled to have so many visitors, and I’m sure it would have garnered a big thumbs up. You will see a lot of orange and gold today. The orange is the ribbon colour for Leukemia awareness, and Gold is for childhood cancers. These vibrant colours stand for our vow to never forget those we have lost, and our pledge to strive towards a tomorrow where leukemia is defeated and children are safe from cancer’s sting. There are a few flowers here today in those colours; but as Edna St. Vincent Millay once wrote, “more precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.” Instead of flowers, the family has asked for donations to be made to Helping Families Handle Cancer, and to their Extra Life fundraising campaign, in support of the Alberta Children’s Hospital. Our first remembrance today will be from Dominic’s auntie and Sean’s sister, Erin Rooney."
‣ Erin Rooney (Dominic's aunt)
My nephew Dominic was a magician.
Any time I got to spend with him, receive an illegible text, facetime, or a phone call, even a photo on photostream, I was put under a spell.  I could not listen, focus, or pay attention to anyone other than Dom. Trish, and Sean, I must apologize for this, there are few things that I can recount of discussions we had, of which there were many, while Dom was in the room.
I consider myself to be a very selfish Auntie.  It was no secret, especially to Trish, who would always have to give me the heads up if someone else was coming to visit Dom at a time when I would be by.  I finally stopped hiding it, admitting defeat and poor sharing skills.  When I was around Dom, everything else took second place.
It is very, VERY funny to me then, that I stand here before all of you.  Despite my efforts to 'not share' my most amazing nephew, clearly I failed. According to my brother's blog, I failed over 400,000 times over.  - and counting.  I do not believe that Dominic's journey is over.  You have all proven that in the days since his passing.  Thank you.
Only a small portion of you here knew Dom before his diagnosis.  For anyone, 33% of their life is likely worth talking about as well as the other 66.The first 11 months of Dom's life was also filled with special people, special experiences, and surrounded by love.  Dom passed swimming lessons, travelled to Mexico, and went on a 'world tour'; more than most of us accomplish in the same time period. As a new Auntie, I treasured every opportunity to spend time with my nephew.  Dom's first Christmas was spent in Calgary, an event I did not want to miss.  This was the first Christmas that I spent away from my parents as a result; instead, my boyfriend Greg and I spent it at our place in Canmore.  Over the holidays, we got to have Sean, Trish and Dom out to Canmore, and have dinner at Trish's parents place in Calgary.
I drove down to Medicine Hat in February 2013 which became my first opportunity to babysit Dom. There isn't anything much better than waking up to a 4 month old and enjoying early morning baby giggles and playtime.
I cannot speak to whether this is unique to Dom's time with us, but it seemed to me that those who spent time with him took it upon themselves to teach something to Dom.  As I can imagine with most children, they bring out the opportunity for us to impart our knowledge, share experiences, and pass along something to the next generation.  Dom was no exception.  While Dom was non-verbal (although this does not mean he was a quiet boy, far from it!), this meant that we couldn't have a conversation and teach through telling stories or giving advice. He was too little for that.  What we could and did do was teach him actions and phrases.  This included: sticking your tongue out, monkey, sign language for more, drink, eat; fist bump, high five, raise the roof, silly, and of course - Thumbs up.
The doctors and nurses who provided such amazing care for him along the way taught him things that children should never know, but he also mastered: cleaning his lumens, taking his meds, changing his dressing, putting 2 cotton balls in his diaper, taking his temperature, and listening to his 'badumpa dumps' (hold hand to chest).
One of my favourite things to do with Dom from a young age was to talk on the telephone.  At first when he was little, this was largely an imaginative game for Dom; I would use anything and everything as a 'pretend' telephone.  He loved the idea of talking to someone through whatever telephone was imagined.  As his attention span often waned, he would normally only get through a quick conversation that went something like 'hello, Dom - it's for you! how are you, oh, I gotta go play' phone call. Which we would repeat over and over and over.  This then progressed to real phone calls where Dom would very truly have a conversation with you, answering your questions like 'what did you do today?' and 'are you going to go play later?' in his most adorable little noises or "eeps".  He was a smart boy.
I would always tell people that there was a positive to Dom's diagnosis... which may sound horrible to some, but you really do have to find light and goodness in something so heart strangling as kids cancer.  I always felt that had Dom not been sick, and spent so much time in Calgary, I would never have spent a fraction of the time that I was able to; with him, Trish, or Sean.  I never felt during Dom's time in treatment that 'I had to get my own life back' or 'return to normal'.  Dom, Trish, and Sean became so much a part of my normal during the past few years and I will never ever regret the time we spent together.  I got to know and have a new respect and love for my brother as an adult, husband and father, and develop a friendship with Trish that will never break.  I already miss receiving texts about Trish's (I mean Dom's! ha) weekly bingo wins - how many lucky numbers and BINGO's, and the corresponding toy chosen off the cart. :-)

When trying to figure out what to say today, one theme comes through bright and strong about Dom.  Dom was capable of unconditional love. Certainly in the past few months he narrowed his focus of people who could calm and soothe him, but that little boy was a friend making machine.  From the many nurses on Unit 1, in the Medicine Hat Hospital, at Rotary Flames house, the doctors, the cleaning personnel (especially the floor cleaner), the unit clerk, the music man, other children receiving treatment in Unit 1, their siblings and parents, family of Sean and Trish, and the almost rotating door of visitors from across the Country to visit- Dom was affectionate and friendly.  Dom never had to learn what a stranger was, so he never treated you strange; and he certainly was NOT shy. But he sure knew what 'friends' were.  When you would go to visit Dom and stand outside his door to get his attention, you would see his face light up and he would start waving at you almost as if you say "I've missed you, how are you, come in, give me some love!". And when it was time to leave he would give you the most wonderful open mouthed kisses, blow kisses, and wave goodbye. Dom created love - this was something I saw as my boyfriend Greg fell deeply in love with my little nephew - it was magical to witness.
bring bring, bring bring "hello? Dom! Monkey, lovie, how are you? [pause] you are doing good? Great! Hey, we miss you down.... what?? oh, yes, you gotta go play and have a dance party, okay monkey.  Auntie loves you. Bye"
Dom, I loved you fiercely and with my whole heart. You were my favourite without question. I will miss giving you more kisses, more kisses, more kisses, more kisses, more kisses...

‣ Candle ceremony
At this point, I would ask Sean and Trish to come forward for the candle lighting. Today, we will light a candle in memory of Dominic. The light of the flame has always held great importance; it can be seen as both the eternal flame that stands for the remembrance of those gone before
(LIGHT SEAN'S CANDLE);
 the light of a candle has also come to represent rebirth and renewal
(LIGHT TRISH'S CANDLE). These two meanings are incorporated in the lighting of this candle
(BOTH LIGHT DOM'S CANDLE). Let this light be the ever present love and memory of Dominic, which will always live on in our hearts.   We all have holes in our lives because Dominic is gone, but we are thankful for the memories we have of him. We are thankful we can hold hands with each other, because in doing so, we have found hope and healing in sharing.
 Together, here with his parents, we share our burdens and our grief, as well as our memories and our strength. As we light this candle today in remembrance of Dominic, we do so as those who love, who care, who share, and who will always remember. I’d now ask Carie Stock to come forward. Carie works with the organization Helping Families Handle Cancer, and she would like to say a few words.

‣ Carie Stock (Helping Families Handle Cancer)
Hi everyone. I am Carie Stock from Helping Families Handle Cancer. We are a non-profit foundation that helps families who are struggling to make ends meet when their child is battling cancer.  The Rooney family was one of the 236 families we have helped since we were founded Helping Families Handle Cancer 7 years ago. Our non-profit helps cancer families with various bills like parking at the hospital, gas, groceries.

I am so touched that Trish and Sean asked me to speak today in remembering Dominic. Our Foundation has become very close to this family and our heart hurts for their loss and that our little hero is gone.

The first time I met Dom was at Trish’s Mom’s house in Calgary. My husband and I were on our way to see our next cancer family, that was newly referred to our program. Little did we know that our lives would be changed that day because of a little boy who wanted to hold my hand and lead me all around the house, giving me a tour and making sure I got to see everything. After the tours were over, we had a chance to sit down with Sean and Trish and hear their story. I walked out of there thinking about their family, and Brad and I talked all the way home about Dom.  Over the years, we became close with the Rooney’s, not as one of our cancer families in our program, but as friends. Every time I came to the hospital to visit new families in our program, I would always stop by and see Dom. Every once in a while I would answer my phone and Dom would be on the other end chatting away at me. Dom wasn’t able to speak actual words, but I’d get a call with Sean or Trish on the caller ID and I would just hear squeaking and eeeping with excitement and I would know instantly who it was. As Sean’s sister Erin and I say – “It is all about the Eeeeps”. I will always hold those phone calls close to my heart.

As time went on I grew to really admire Trish and Sean. They held down the fort in a way that made you wonder where their strength came from. I have always said that Sean was one of the sweetest Dad’s in our program because he would work late Friday night and then make the drive into Calgary just to be there when Dom woke up. He would spend the weekend in Calgary and then wait until Dom went to sleep on Sunday nights to make the long drive back home. He didn’t want to leave early to have some time at home, he cherished every moment with Dom. Sean would figure out a way to be there for all the important stuff and Trish would stay at the hospital tracking everything that was happening.  They would always come up with a plan together, as a united front. When I visited Dom, his Mom was by his side. It reminded me of myself and my Mom when I was battling childhood cancer, Moms are there to make you feel safe and snuggled. Trish and Sean were known by almost everyone on unit 1, and even some parents on other units. They had friends everywhere. I know that the relationships they built helped other families along in their journey as well and people appreciated having someone to talk to. Sean’s blog reached so many people, I don’t think there is a day that would go by that friend, family or stranger would mention to me that they were reading the blog and thinking about the Rooney family.

I will never forget the last time I saw Dom. Myself, my Mom and some Helping Families team members went by to visit Dom at the Rotary Flames House. We brought with us three balloons, a duck, a panda and a frog, that had feet and floated above the floor, so that you could take them for a walk. Dom giggled the moment he saw them. These animals, which we later named his “minions”, would float behind his green wagon as we took him for wagon rides up and down the hallways. He spent the majority of the time looking behind his wagon and watching the minions follow him as he held onto the string. He would giggle as we tried to get all of us, a wagon, and Dom’s new friends into the elevator so we could walk down a different hallway. His giggling would make your heart melt. At that time, he didn’t want any of them in the wagon with him. He was very particular of that. He liked them trailing behind him. Shortly after that day, Trish let me know that thanks to us, they had to take the minions for a walk every day. We even got a picture of Dom with his panda, duck and frog inside the wagon with him and a big smile on his face, I guess he wanted them closer.

As I look back on this journey, I didn’t realize just how much a 2 year old could teach me. He showed me that even though you can’t speak a single word, your story can be heard around the world..  He taught me that the deeper I open my heart to our cancer families, the more they will open theirs.  That the cutest things come in the smallest packages. That green pop (also known as ginger ale) and smarties are the perfect combination.  He taught me that a "light" sabre can also be a "life" sabre. The most important thing he taught me was that a life lived in the hospital, with nurses poking and doctors prodding, can be a life full of smiles, giggles and that he did not lose his battle with cancer, because the battle is really about not losing who you are. It’s not as much about what happens in life, but what you do with it. Dom's spirit touched many people and he captured a piece of their heart. Yes cancer is scary, yes it is sad, it’s mean and cruel and unfair, but look at what this precious little boy gave us. So no, I don’t think Dom lost his battle to cancer, I think he showed it who’s boss and in light of that, gave it his famous thumbs up.


‣ Don Nichol (Dominic's uncle)
Hello and thank you all for coming out to celebrate the life of Dominic with us. I have to say, I had a really hard time trying to write this. Every time I started I would just sit and cry.A friend suggested I should speak from the heart, but it's hard to do when your heart is broken.
 I first wrote about the anger I felt when Dominic had been diagnosed 2 years ago. I wrote about the despair I felt on Christmas Eve last year when the Doctors told Trish and Sean that the fight was over, go home and spend the remaining weeks with him. I wrote about the loss I felt when Sean called to tell me that Dominic was gone. But then I realized that’s not important. What’s important are the wonderful times I was fortunate enough to share with him.  All the memories created.
 And his smile.
 I still remember when I first met him. It was in March 2013, in sunny Cancun, Mexico.
 He was only 6 months old, but he was already so easy going, such a happy, curious child, with a great smile.He loved to play in the sand, swim in the pool and nap on the beach beds. We had so much in common. The first time I picked him up, it was really difficult to put him back down. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Trish spent a lot of time asking which one of us had him now. Except when it was time to change his diaper...that was definitely Mom and Son time. I remember we’d decided to go to Walmart, so we got directions on how to get there by bus. Trish packed up the diaper bag, I strapped on Dominic and the six of us caught the bus. Needless to say, we got lost. Not knowing Spanish didn’t help. We seemed to get more lost the farther we went. After much wandering, we were able find a cab, but there was only room for three of us. Trish told Lisa, Brenden I to take it and Mom and her would grab the next one. So we did, with Dominic still strapped on.
 We drove away just as another cab pulled up, so I knew they wouldn’t be far behind. We got to Walmart expecting them to be right behind us, but they weren’t. Five minutes went by and I started to really worry. But not Dominic. He was calm and relaxed. I should have followed his lead, because sure enough a couple minutes later Trish and Mom arrived. I was so relieved...what if I had to change a diaper before Trish arrived. In my opinion, it had been too close for comfort. Eventually more family arrived in Mexico, and more excursions were made. Through it all Dominic was calm, relaxed and wearing his beautiful smile. That trip to Mexico was the first of so many trips that Dominic took. Thanks to his amazing parents, he was able to pack in a lot of living in his short time with us. My son Brenden would like to share with you a poem he wrote about Dom.

[BRENDEN] It was a joyous occasion when he was born
They took him everywhere to the Stampeders, and Flames
To join their world of loving and care
But for every bit of joy there is a little regret to follow
A few sneezes and fevers and his parents were in a tantrum
Sent to Hospital with the words we can fix him in no time

He was trapped, scared stiff, the strangeness of his cases were freaky
Stuck in his prison of suffering
A stench of bleach and lemon puckered up anyones face except his
He sits, laughing at the birds on the walls
It’s like the reaper it brings peace at the cost of life.
He’s a loving puppy stuck in death row
Cast away from any sanity that he had left
Forced to face this monstrous beast with nothing but his will as a sword
We all have heard of it.
Leukemia.
On September 12th, 2013 his life was flipped upside down.
Denied on his chance on a regular life forced to walk on a tightrope between life and death
The only communication between them was through glass not able to hug, nor shake, nor love nor cry
an emotional barrier that denied any love or caring.

He touches every person he meets
Plays your heart strings like a little Mozart
Creating both masterpieces and disasters
Knowing the B E D and G chords and which combinations triggers each emotion
To make you feel, care and cry for his suffering to inflict his pain on yourself
If only to rid him of them for a second

But hope was offered on a silver platter, it started as a simple cure that worked at the start but did more harm than good
like an old bridge with too much weight his immune system collapsed
Mandatory injections just to make him as strong as any other person addicted, whenever he tried to wean it out he would Shake like dog in a thunderstorm tremors shook through his hands fixed on steroids, Surgery was done to attach a tube Directly to his veins.  All hope was gone destroyed by every side effect possible he got every allergy possible
It was False hope.  On Christmas Eve the doctors laid a report on the table and left with one comment you should leave and Make the most with the time you left.

It reminded me of the kid that asked his mother why the greatest people die early
His mother responded “when I ask you to pick flowers which one do you pick,
The most beautiful ones.”

See, through all he suffered he never cried once only had a smile and a look of pure joy
he is just as much an inspiration as he was kid
he holds us up when he should be crying he’s a rainbow
Extravagant but only lasts a second one moment and it's gone so cherish every moment you have

Because it just might be your last.


We are here to celebrate the life of Dominic, but we should also remember to celebrate the strength of Trish and  Sean. They are the Heroes of his story, carrying on now that Dominic no longer can, turning their tragedy into an opportunity to help others in need.
 Thank you Trish and Sean for sharing your amazing son with all of us.


‣ Video tribute (Angie King/Shelton Kwan)

‣ Sean Rooney (Dominic's dad)
(Thumbs up)(Breathe)(Laugh)Anybody who’s seen or read The Hunger Games knows why I laughed. Anyhow… Dominic is our miracle. Born after we’d given up on years of fertility treatment, he was everything we hoped a child could be: Happy, inquisitive, even challenging. We never thought we’d be here today though. As I look back on the past three years, my chest hurts and my eyes feel heavy. We are both incredibly sad, tired and spent. But there are also reasons to smile, laugh and thank our miracle for what he gave us. A great man once said that death gives meaning to our lives, that time would become meaningless if there were too much of it. I think Dominic’s life is testament to that; he may not have been here long, but damned if he didn’t steal the show and make his mark. Some people complain when the lineup at the grocery store is too long. Heck, I complained as we were sorting out aspects of this ceremony. But Dom? With rare exceptions, he always had a positive attitude. His response to those little stresses would be to remember the big picture. Blow a kiss. Give a hug. Chemotherapy? Radiation? Isolation and tubes of every sort? An IV on his head because they couldn’t get a vein in his arm to work? He danced through all of it, smiling and endearing himself to everyone he came in contact with. Even in the last day of his life, bent over and struggling to breathe, he flashed me that famous thumbs-up one last time. As if to say ‘don’t worry dad, everything’s going to be fine.’ Things aren’t fine right now. He deserved a better fate, but so many people did everything they could and it wasn’t good enough. That said, we’re making the best of today by not only mourning but also celebrating who he was, and who he will forever remain. He never knew different. He spent almost every day in a hospital since he was 11 months old. Needles and nurses were his normal. Gowns and masks and washing your hands 10 times a day. Chasing the cleaning staff through hospital hallways, or waving at them from the other side of a door. When he was home, it still wasn’t really normal. For instance, he loved to swim. But that required a special setup because of his broviac line. While he didn’t like having the plastic film pulled off of his skin afterwards, he still laid back, hands behind his head, feet crossed. And whenever we found some new normal, something would happen to change it. Trips to the ICU, the cancer returning, even a minor cold forcing him back to isolation. My catchphrase through all of this has been ‘it is what it is.’ And that remains true now.  We can’t change the past, so the best way to honour Dominic would be to try and live more like he did. To blow more kisses, give more thumbs-up’s, smile at strangers and hug your friends. And, when the music comes on, dance. He never did speak. We have video proof he once said ‘mum,’ and I swear I heard him say ‘dad’ once, but Dom had to use other methods to communicate because he never quite figured out phonetics. Add in the stroke that affected his right side and he was left with a strong left hand and a series of grunts, squeaks and eeps. It was more than enough. You always knew what Dom wanted, whether it was a different soother (hand to mouth), a drink (a turn of the wrist) or a dance party (shaking an arm). If it wasn’t among his basic signs, he’d resort to pointing, using a combination of signs or crying. A few weeks ago Trish had to walk five minutes back to Rotary Flames House from the hospital to get him a Bluetooth speaker for dance music. He gave her (index finger) one minute to do it. Good thing one in his world was relative, and also the sign for patience. Two weeks ago today we were at the Magic Kingdom in Orlando. I think if he saw what’s happened since then he’d smile the same way he did at Alice of Wonderland, who was most certainly his last girlfriend. A knowing smile, with a hint of mischievousness. So much giving in his name. All his best friends together, at a party just for him. So let’s eat off the menu he picked – KD, licorice, smarties and cheezies, with ginger ale to wash it down. Let’s give thumbs-up when the words won’t come. Fist-bumps, high fives, waves and blown kisses when we leave. Give to others with your heart leading the way. Be #dominicstrong. One last thing: Whenever he danced, he put out his hands and made you grab them. If there were two people in the room, both took a hand and everyone had to dance. Let’s do that now. Music please!(Katy Perry’s Roar)


‣ Conclusion (Trevor)
“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.” Dominic was an incredible little boy, and he did so much for others. He taught us the value of living in the moment, the joy that can be found if you focus on what you have, right now, that’s good. He loved his parents, his family, his friends - heck, even the nurses and doctors. He had a smile that could not be denied. He blew the sweetest kisses, raised the highest roofs, bumped the best fists, gave the greatest hugs. He did so much, while dealing with obstacles that no one could imagine. His spirit and strength will remain with everyone here. Sean and Trish, if he was Superman, you were his Jonathan and Martha Kent. You have the most special little guy in the whole world, and you shared him, and his amazing powers, with the rest of us. You raised him to be the kind, joyful, strong little boy that won every heart he touched. We never got to hear him speak, but you gave him a mighty voice. What you do with him, and for him, is a legacy that will endure. You were the parents he needed. Everyone here, you have helped to tell the whole world about Dominic. You are a part of his story, and he will live in your hearts and thoughts forever. Dominic will always be with us, and he will always be our Superman. (PAUSE) There will be a reception upstairs, for those of you who who can attend. There will be a selection of Dominic’s favourite foods available, including ginger ale, cheezies, and macaroni and cheese - but not that fancy stuff; the good powdered, day-glow orange cheese kind. Please find and sign the guestbook, if you haven’t already. There are two of them, with a picture of Dominic on every page, but there’s plenty of space around the picture for your messages and thoughts. As we leave today, Jared will be playing  'Superman's Song', by the Crash Test Dummies. Thank you (THUMBS UP)


‣ Exit (Superman's Song, written by Crash Test Dummies, performed by Jared Brake)


Reception to follow in the Cutbanks Room and second floor of Esplanade

1 comment:

  1. Unfortunately we were unable to be there, but our hearts were there and are with Dom forever! It was very touching to have met him, truly inspiring to watch him overcome so many challenges with a smile. Such resilience, such a heart. He was truly a gift from God. We know that he's free and well now, one more beautiful star shining in the sky.

    May God grant peace to the parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, relatives, friends and all those whose lives were touched by his beautiful soul.
    Dominic, you will live on in our hearts and memories!
    With love, Sandra, Manuel & Ursula.

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