Dante Alexander S. Gutierrez

My son, Dante, was born on September 30, 2005. A few months later he was diagnosed with Microcephaly and Cerebral Palsy.  It was heartbreaking knowing that my son was never going to have a normal life like every other kid.  There is not a greater pain than a mother to see his kid not being able to walk, talk, see or play. Regardless of his diagnosis, I was willing to do anything possible to make sure he was ok in the hope that one day he’d get better.

There were times that were a challenge figuring him out and trying to understand him since he was not verbal. But I learned throughout the years. It was like putting pieces to a puzzle.  When he was sick my daughter and I would ride with him in the back of the ambulance to the hospital.  We even had to leave home for a couple of days to stay in the hospital for him.  I’ve been with my son through all of his surgeries supporting him, holding his hand and comforting him.  There was a couch that my daughter and I shared to sleep next to his hospital bed while doctors came in and out of the room until he got better and we could take him home.

In the mornings when we woke up, I’d check on him and tell him good morning while I opened the curtains to let the sun in. I would kiss him and ask him if he had a good night.  He would open his eyes and yawn, kind of upset that I had woken him up.  With a silly face, he would put his arm up and cover his eyes and that’s how I knew he was not a morning person.  Some days I had nurses to help and some days it was just me.  I would change his diaper, turn his feeding off and then give him his medications.  I’d carry him into my bed too change his bed sheets. I would then carry him to the shower and sit him on his special chair and bath him.  He loved warm water and he’d feel so relaxed.  Then, I’d change him and got him all comfy on his bed.  Once every other week I’d cut his hair.  In his room he had a big TV so he could hear the cartoons and listen to music.  When my daughter played the piano, he was happy and would start making sounds with his eyes wide open.  There were times when he pretended to cough on purpose so then I would know that he wanted my full attention.  He liked when I suctioned him.  He’d open his mouth and say “Ahhhhh”.  It was his way of playing with me.  He also let me know when he needed his diaper changed by saying “Maaaaa.”

In the late afternoons, I’d take him to the living room to his favorite couch while I cooked and listened to music. For some reason the sound of the vacuum made him happy and he’d start making noises.  Our dog, Jace, would lay next to him while my daughter was at school. My daughter, Marla, and son, Julian, would run around and play.  They would randomly walk up to kiss Dante and tell him they loved him.

At night, I’d lay down next to him and we would watch a movie, or I’d read him a book.  I’d talk to him and kiss him goodnight.  I’m pretty sure he knew I loved him.  I taught him how to say “agua” in Spanish and also, he could say “Marla”, his sister’s name.

On his birthdays, his little brother Julian and I would go to the store, and I’d let Julian choose a cake and balloons for the celebration.  Dante was unable to blow out the candles.  Julian would help him do it and make a wish for him.  On Christmas sometimes it was just the four of us and we would all celebrate as a little family.

Despite his condition, Dante was a strong, sweet, loving, and handsome boy.  He fought all his life like a warrior.  I want everyone to remember him like I do.

I love you, Son.  You’ll always be in my heart until I see you again.

Rest in Peace, Son.  I know you are free, playing in green pastures.  God is with you and there is no more pain.  Great grandpa Juan Jose and Grandpa Oscar are with you in heaven.

Thank you for being you!

It’s been an honor to fight this battle beside you, my precious Warrior.

Love,

Mom

Services will be private.