Sunday, March 1, 2009


I will be printing off and reading the comments and e-mails left for Emilee to her. She may not respond, but I know she is aware part of the time of those around her and the comments left for her will be heard. So, please keep writing any memories, thoughts, etc. for her and her family and they will be read. Thanks!
-Jennie Kilstrom


greg said...

Love you all, who ever reads this, please include a hug and kiss from both of us to everyone within range, cousins Greg and Pat

Anonymous said...

Dear Emilee, David, Brenton, Johnny, Nathan, Family and Friends of Emilee

I would like to share a personal experience that I don't talk about too often with many people because of it's intimate and spiritual nature, but I feel impressed to share it now.

I was born with a congenital heart block that was not discovered until I was 29 when I received my first pacemaker. I am currently on pacemaker #4. I have also suffered with scoliosis for most of my life that degenerated to the point that I needed major surgery at age 49, fusing 9 of my lower vertebrae and requiring numerous titanium rods and screws to be inserted in my spine.

I do not pretend to know what Emilee is experiencing, but I am no stranger to chronic pain and extreme fatigue and I think of Emilee often and pray for her frequently.

My first pacemaker operation was performed under local anesthetic. I was aware of everything being said by the doctors and could talk to them, but couldn't feel any pain. During the operation, my heart stopped several times. At one point, I felt my spirit leave my body.

The doctor was talking to me and I opened my mouth to say, "Don't worry, I'm leaving now." but no words came out. Everything went numb. There was no feeling except the wonderful feeling of complete weightlessness as I found myself floating up to the ceiling, still laying in a horizontal position.

I could sense a tremendous amount of frantic movement, concern and worry beneath me and I could hear the comments and the doctor calling me by name, "Sandra, can you hear me?" I wanted to answer that I was fine, not to worry because I was leaving, but they couldn't hear or understand me. I didn't even bother to look down at them because I was so focused on floating upward and forward - I had no concerns about what was beneath me. I felt an immense sense of calm and absolute peace.

I floated up to the ceiling and then went through it and found myself in a vertical position walking down a long corridor or hallway. It was extremely narrow but the ceiling was very high and there was a large, tall door at the end of the corridor with bright, white light eminating from beyond, squeezing through the cracks in the outline of the door casting bright rays of light into the hallway where I was walking.

I was the only person in the hallway and as I stared at the door and the rays of light, I felt an absolute, indescribable feeling of joy, devoid of pain, worry, or fear that I had never felt before -it consumed every part of my being and I was intensely happy and filled with peace. My only goal was to reach the door and open it. The corridor was long and I quickened my pace though I wasn't really walking - it was more like floating, but I was moving forward.

I finally reached the door and put my hand on the doorknob to open it, when suddenly a door to my right opened and I was sucked into a small room that was dark by comparison. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed a man standing directly in front of me. "What are you doing here?" he asked, though he wasn't surprised to see me. "I want to go through the door to the light." I responded and I noticed my lips were not moving. There were words, but no speaking, simply a process of thoughts being exchanged like a mental form of communication - we simply understood each other's thoughts.

"You are not supposed to be here," he said. "Please, I don't want to leave." I said, "I want to enter the other room." A few more thoughts exchanged between us when he finally said with authority, "You must go back now."

It was more of a command than a comment and I felt myself falling, falling until I hit the table with a sudden force and heard the doctor say, "Sandra, are you there - can you hear me?" Immediately, I was overcome by intense, excruiating pain and I started to cry as I asked him to put me out. He told me to hang on as he was just attaching the second wire or lead to my heart and then I could feel every sharp jab as he stitched me up.

It wasn't until I was in the recovery room and my husband, Ron and my parents came in to see me that I had the thought, "Wow - I died and I didn't want to come back." I was amazed and embarrassed that I didn't want to come back since I was young and had two small children to care for at the time. But while I was having the out of body experience, I never once thought I was dead - I knew I was still very much alive - I had just left my physical body.

I have pondered over that experience many times. As far as near-death experiences go (from the ones I have read about) - my experience was very brief, but I still vividly remember the vast difference between the feelings of intense joy and peace as compared to the agonizing pain I felt when I returned.

Emilee has experienced agonizing pain for a long time now. She has yet to feel the intense joy and peace that I know she will experience when she finally passes through the veil of mortality. I have often wondered what the point and purpose is of so much pain in mortality. I like the following quote.

Elder Orson F. Whitney wrote: "No pain that we wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of...patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer...,especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God...and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we [came] here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven." ("Lessons on Healing," Ensign, April 2004, 59-60.)

None of us have all the answers to why Emilee has had to suffer so much. But all of us who know you Emilee, are witnesses of your remarkable faith, endurance and courage in the face of pain, suffering and adversity. Your example and the example of your family and all those who serve you is a lesson in love and compassion.

We love you!
Sandra Baer

Jenny said...

We are thinking a lot about David and Emilee. We are praying for all of you. I wish I could be there to drop everything and help out. We love Emilee. Ever since I joined this family I have admired Emilee for her kindness and perserverance for enduring to the end. We hope to see you soon.

--Jennifer Baer - Stephen's Jennifer

Alesha said...

My Dear Sweet Emilee -

I had not idea. my family and I are sending you besitos (kisses) and muchos abrazos (lots of hugs). My prayers are with you and your handsome boys. I wish I could be there to help you, but my thoughts are with you, always!

Alesha B. Cifuentes-Pichler

Anonymous said...

This comment is for Brenton!
Hi brenton! i go to your school! and sometimes people are so mean to you!! it really hurts me, to see that they are mean, so i have kinda been asking them to stop! and they have gotten better, chevy and lyndzie... i think those are there names, tey are not nice! to anyone! just know that! so i am so so so so so so sorry that you are going through a hard time, and that people can be so mean to you, just konw that i dont hate you, but i am anonymous. But i really do appreciate you, in our school! you are a wonderful person! you have done so well. with all the trials that you aare faced with! keep being strong!! you are in my prayers!

Tom said...

Hi, we do not know you personaly. We are your cousins from the Dolberg/Domson side of the family. We too are battling cancer in my wifes side of the family,(Her 17 year old nephew). We look forward to meeting your family. Our prayers are with you and your family. Hugs and kisses from both of us, Tom and Jolean Domson

Anonymous said...

Dear Emilee,
I hope that you are resting comfortably. I have kept up with your blog and followed you and your family. You have waged such a valiant fight against this cancer. You have handled everything that came your way with dignity, humor and strength. You have fought for normalcy in spite of your ordeal. I'm very impressed and proud of you. I know how difficult it is. I hope they can continue to drain the fluid. That was the first symptom of my ovarian cancer. The first drain was 5 liters, the second 4. The third time they could not drain it because they couldn't put a needle in without hitting a tumor. The fluid makes it difficult to eat or breathe.
My prayers, as always, are with you and your family. I wish I were closer to you as I would love to talk to you. Give my love to your dear parents.I wish you peace and courage, dear Emilee.
Love, Ann Marie Pierce

Emilee Dolberg Ellis said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...


I went to high school with you. I wanted to stop in and let you know that you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. You have such a kind heart and gentle nature and you were so kind to all you knew then. Love to you and your family.

k.baer said...

Emilee - you have been and will continue to be in our thoughts and prayers. Thank you for your wonderful example.

Karla Baer

Anonymous said...

I was in the old Brookside 2nd ward in Stockton with you. You were such an example to so many people. I looked up to you in so many ways. Your were such a mature, smart and beautiful young woman. You will be missed.