Dear Sebby,

with how my son Angus behaved, as sometimes Autism means he acts a little strangely in public. I was grateful that you all liked Angus just the way he is. Your Mum (Jen) and I talked about how much we hoped we could figure out some kind of time together just the two of us. Believe it or not, we haven’t managed that yet, Sebby. But, we will.

Just over two years ago, in the winter of 2014-2015, we learned that you had something called AML (acute myeloid leukemia). I remember feeling shocked. I remember your friend Leo feeling shocked too. We wanted to join with you in your cancer journey though, and we were even able to visit you at the Montreal Children’s Hospital. We were your first visitors who weren’t family. Leo is very proud of that. He has always been proud to be your friend anyway.

Your parents started an update page on social media, so we could all follow along. I thought that was such an act of generosity to share the experience with us. We became a whole village of cheerleaders.

You went through all kinds of treatments, and then you were able to come back to school. I know it was a brief return before you had to go back, and I’ll bet that made you pretty mad. You went through more treatments, and even had something called ‘bravery beads’ that made a necklace to show every treatment or procedure you went through. Those beads were like getting a medal for something.

Not long ago, we got a message from your Dad – would Leo like to come and visit you AT HOME?! You were home, Sebby! How cool was that?! We went and picked up a whole bunch of silly, fun stuff for you guys to do together, and Leo got to spend the evening, having supper and playing with you. He had so much fun; I know he didn’t want to leave.

You had to go back into the hospital, and off you went.

Then, on March 14th, 2017, just as the snowstorm hit Knowlton, Knowlton itself was hit with something far bigger than snow. Your Dad posted a status update. Our friend, the funny, silly, one-of-a-kind Sebastian Call had died. You were ten years old.

“It is such a strange place, the land of tears.” – Antoine de Saint-exupéry (The Little Prince)

Sometimes I think you can feel grief hit a whole bunch of people, like a big stretching web of electricity, and that web went through the storm that was hitting us. Your Dad said afterwards that he figures you probably thought your friends would like a snow day. Well, they got TWO.

Two days for everyone to try to figure out how to feel this experience. Two days for everyone to figure out how to help out your Mum and Dad, and your little brother Phil.

Your Dad wrote to us and asked if Leo would like to have your Transformers comforter. Leo said that it would be an honour, and he wrote a message himself back to your Dad. Leo and I watched the movie Pete’s Dragon on the day that you died. He said that that was like him and you – two best friends who would have to part ways. I am making sure that he is able to cope and has the freedom to talk and let out his sadness, and also to talk about the fun that you guys had together.

Last weekend was your funeral. Reverend Tim Wiebe did a great job giving that packed church permission to cry, let us know that it was going to be hard, he acknowledged that some of your schoolmates had probably not even been to a funeral before. People who love you spoke about your impact on all of us. And, as Tim quoted our friend Sarah Biggs as saying, “It takes a village to mourn a child.” That’s right, Sebby. And that village stretches far and wide, even to your friend, professional hockey player PK Subban, whom you met while you were in the hospital, and to friends all over the world. Your funeral was live-streamed over the internet so that friends and family far away could be a part of this very special and sad day. Kind of magical, that.

I want you to know that we’re (all of the friends, and definitely your family) going to be there for your Mum and Dad and Phil. We will learn to go through this with them, and we’ll learn how to be there for them in the ways they need us to be. We know those ways will change, sometimes in the same day. We know that sometimes unexpected feelings will happen, and we’ll learn to understand that too.

“You – you alone will have the stars as no one else has them...in one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...you – only you – will have starts that can laugh.” – Antoine de Saint-exupéry (The Little Prince)

Thank you for your friendship, Sebby. For making your friend’s Mum feel like ‘everything was going to be okay’ the very first moment we met. Right now, things aren’t okay, but we know one day again, they will be, and part of who we are and how we go forward in life will be because you were here with us, even if it wasn’t for as long as we wished it had been. We love you forever. Love, Sheila and Leo