Letter from Christopher Stone

My name is Christopher Stone and as the Supreme Court may be reconsidering the case of Robert Latimer, I am compelled to speak out from a parent's perspective as regards Bob, Laura and Tracy Latimer.
I am the father of Eloïse Stone, who died at the age of twelve, almost twelve years ago. My daughter Eloïse and Tracy Latimer had parallel lives, both severely injured children, both died at the age of twelve and both had parents who cared dearly for them to the very end.
It is not my intent to shock, offend or hurt. As a father to my daughter, I have done what any parent could do, as did her mother. In following Bob Latimer's very public life three years after the death of my own daughter, I am reminded time and again of what life is with a very hurt child and how difficult it is for others to understand what this means. So, out of respect for Bob Latimer, I am going to use very plain language, plain language that has been missing as the appellants and the courts try, and fail, to understand, what Tracy and Eloïse and Bob and I lived with.
My daughter and Tracy Latimer had parallel lives - they shared the same medical nightmare. Early in their lives, they sustained injury that left them very hurt children.
In plain words, I will describe the extent of my daughter's injury and, in so doing, I am also describing Tracy Latimer. Eloïse was quadriplegic, severely quadriplegic, that is totally paralyzed, incapable of any voluntary movement of arms, legs, face... Not able to walk, talk or chew. Eloïse was blind, unable to see those who loved her dearly and cared for her. Eloïse, as did Tracy, had chronic, uncontrollable, untreatable epileptiform. That is, randomly subject to massive convulsive seizures that were preceded and resulted in what, I am told by those who can speak of it, are the most hideous headaches imaginable. And cruelest of all, Eloïse had an unknown degree of mental retardation- in other words, so injured was she that there was no way of knowing to what extent she was aware of her surroundings or her own condition.
Our children, Tracy and Eloïse, were not disabled, they were severely injured beyond any repair. Our children were not handicapped, but totally dependant, permanently, on other human beings for all their life needs. Our children did not have special needs - they were totally needy. Very few people really grasp this or understand the commitment such children inspire in their parents.
Tracy and Eloise were our children, infant children, vulnerable like all infants.
It is in the nature of some parents, when faced with a totally needy child, to take on whatever comes; it is not a brave decision or a blinding inspiration, it is simply taking responsibility for the life that depends so totally on you as parents. Tracy and Eloise lived with their parents and families the length of their lives; there was, there could not be, any question of institutionalizing, under whatever guise. It was simply not in our nature to shrink from our responsibility.
My daughter, victim enough already, was also victim to the needs of other children living with disabilities. Twice she was forced to move out of day-care facilities which provided for her with specialized care and equipment so that she could be "integrated" and experience a "real" and "normal" school where there was no hope of providing her with the care she required. The various associations, some present as appellants against Bob Latimer, which pursue legitimate goals of integration for children with special needs, turned a blind eye to the neediest children like Tracy and Eloise. I fully support more integrated communities for those who can derive benefit therefrom, however in their zeal to pursue this goal, special interest groups do harm to our weakest and continue to do harm in persecuting Bob Latimer.
In the beginning with our children, it was not that much different from any other infant, but as time went on the future perspective became more and more worrisome. As other children flourished into autonomy and then independence, our children weakened and became more dependent and our involvement with them, more intense.
Not that it was all drudgery, by any means. In reading about Tracy, I feel how close she was to Eloïse in the effect she had on her caregivers; there is a radiant sixth sense emanating from these kids who can't speak for themselves that I can only describe as a concentration of love which cannot be expressed in any way other than in this radiance. Only sensed, but evident pleasure from certain things - the closeness of her parents and siblings, the rituals of feeding, songs sung to her. Simple pleasures, more ours as caregivers, perhaps, than theirs.
When the extent of the damage done to Eloïse became known, we were told that the life expectancy for so severely injured a child would be seven years; given their parallel states, I do not expect the prognosis was much different for Tracy. I believe, that like Bob and Laura Latimer, we sustained the lives of our children to twice their normal life expectancy, through love. Has anyone in the high-minded legal community really considered this implication?
Imagine exercising the same diligence one exercises as regards an infant for twelve years; through those years, we would always be on the lookout for the first signs of a cold, for with children like Tracy and Eloïse, the common cold turns, like the weather, into full-blown pneumonia. We were always ready with the antibiotics and unquestioningly prepared to do whatever necessary.
However, for children like Tracy and Eloïse two unavoidable enemies are constantly working against them - time and gravity. Time, in that as they grow older their limbs continue to grow, and gravity ever pulls their weakened bodies in upon themselves.
Time and gravity do not pose an imminent threat to life nor are they an immanent peril, but for Tracy and Eloïse they were partners in an inexorable journey to ever greater pain.
From the age of nine years forward, Eloïse's life became more and more a burden for her, evident in the fading light of her radiance, her mouth, slowly down-turning into a grimace of suffering. All attempts to control the major seizures, which continued to wrack her brain and body with pain, were useless. It was this time that was the most frustrating as I would plead with her, uselessly, to tell me what I could do to make her more comfortable, happier.
And so we turned to the medical profession. The all-too-quickly given prescriptions to forestay the effects of time and gravity on kids like Eloïse and Tracy are remarkable in their barbarity. Again, in plain language, to stop the limbs from falling out of joint, you slice the ligaments that hold them to the body. To stop the spine from collapsing, you insert a metal bar. Does anyone think that the pain associated with a steel bar inserted into the spine ends with the anaesthetic? To continue being able to feed the child, you put a hole in the stomach and apply the food directly. Do we enjoy food and all that goes with it? Do the justices of the Supreme Court? Imagine the terrible irony - the gentle ritual of feeding, one of the few pleasures, nay, life-affirming things they were able to enjoy, would be denied our children so they could be kept alive. What would these repulsive insults to our children's bodies result in? An improved functionality or capability? - No. A medical cadre assuaged by doing all it can? - Yes. A prolongation of life? - Perhaps. A greater quotient of pain? - Most definitely.
Finally, it was the screaming cries in the night, alone in her bed, after yet another massive seizure that turned me. As a father, I could do nothing more to provide my daughter with a life that had any balance between life itself and the pain she endured. There would be no further medical intervention, no further insult to her already injured body and person; what time remained, was up to her.
Unlike Bob Latimer, I did not have the courage to do what I should have done. I waited. And with the first chills of October, her nemesis, pneumonia, appeared like clockwork. This time, with determination, I watched as the fever got higher and higher and her life ebbed away in our loving arms; this time, my daughter found peace.

I am as guilty as Robert Latimer; I did what he did, but I let something else do it.

Tracy and Eloïse are at peace and suffer no longer.

It is time for Tracy's family to find peace; that can only happen when Bob will be with them.

Anymore than I do, Bob does not deserve to spend ten years with criminals.

There has already been enough suffering:

Free Robert Latimer.