Alya Self

We are so sorry to hear about Alya's unfortunate passing. Our prayers are with you all and we mourn with you during this difficult time. We rejoice in the fact that she is with her Lord and that we will see her again. Sending you all of our love.

Me and Alya met for the first time in July of 2024 and never would I think it would be our last. Alya would always have the biggest smile on her face when I saw her and was always in a good mood. Her and her beautiful smile will definitely be missed.💟

I just want to say how happy and grateful I am for the time I got with her. She had a way of making people feel heard and knew what to say to make people laugh, she was the kind of person that never gave up and always showed up with true kindness, strength, and a big heart.

Sherri, Robert, Marsha, Doug and extended families. Don and I are deeply saddened to hear of Alta’s passing. We are heartbroken for all of you. We continue to pray for everyone. We ask God to meet all your needs today and in the difficult days ahead. Don and Dilene Sorochan

I went to school with Alya in the 5th grade she was a wonderful girl and was always super kind to me I wish we had stayed in touch. Alya was always to kind to me no matter what she was like the only person who was my actual friend in elementary school. Her family and friends will miss her. My family send their condolences.

Deepest Sympathy and condolences to Sherri, Tubby and family Alya will be missed everyday ❤️

How does one write a eulogy for their child? How can any person be summed up in a few words? And how can anyone understand that there is no deeper agony than the emptiness of a lost loved one? It is my great privilege and honour to be Alya's biological father. Due to the circumstances of the past six years, my eulogy will primarily focus on the first nine years of Alya's life. Much of my eulogy has been adapted from letters I wrote for Alya over the years, hoping that one day l'd give them to her in person. We think we have time, but we don't. To my darling daughter, I love you. You are a blessing and gift, a bright light in my world, a source of endless pride and joy. From the moment you came into this world, I loved you. There was never anything you had to do or say to earn my love or make me love you more. I loved you simply because you existed. I still do. I always will. From before you were born I was excited to see you. I couldn't wait to share your life with you. l anticipated watching you discover new things, learn about the world, grow into a wise and happy adult. Before you were born, I read to you in the womb. I knew babies can recognise their parents' voices right after being born and I wanted to form this bond with you straight away. It seemed to work! Although you were a happy baby, smiling, making baby noises, and poking out your tongue all the time, occasionally you'd be upset and cry. I would hold you in my arms and gently bounce you, saying your name in a sing-song way, "Alya, Alya, Alya, Alya", and you would calm. I would take you into our walk-in robe, where I think the cosy, dark space was soothing for you. As you grew a little older, we'd look out of its small window and l'd point to things outside, like the moon or people walking past. You were fascinated by bright lights and the moon — such a large light! — was an early object of your attention. "Moon", you would say, pointing. It was one of your first words. I remember "dad" was your very first one, but "moon" and "bone" soon followed: I think you liked the "o" sounds. Sherri kept a list on the fridge, tracking your early words. Your first favourite book was Goodnight Moon. At the end of the book, you'd always repeat, "Goodnight Moon". Next was Goodnight Zoo. You loved the plot twist at the end of the book, where, after locking all the animals in their cages for the night, the sleepily oblivious zoo-keeper is followed home by the gorilla, who ends up taking the zoo-keeper's spot in his bed. You always laughed at this absurd humour, pointing to the illustration on the page. You were a very early reader, which was delightful to see. I helped you learn by painting words on flashcards, and through a treasure-hunt reading game. You were able to read by yourself from the age of two. However, you still loved it when I read to you. You especially enjoyed The Cat In The Hat series and asked for them over and over again. I'd read one and you would follow along, with the serious expression you had when you were paying attention or thinking, and as soon as I finished you'd say, "Again!" I enjoyed seeing how much you liked them, which made it worth every repetition. I preferred Fox In Socks, but you mostly just liked it when my tongue tripped on the tricky tongue-twisters, which made you laugh. You always had a wonderful sense of humour! I have many memories of us making each other laugh. You were witty, insightful, and never mean-spirited. And you were so very clever! Once, when you were older, we were making songs on my laptop. I had the flu and often stopped to loudly blow my nose. Unbeknownst to me, you recorded me blowing my nose and looped it into our song. I hit 'play' and there was my foghorn nose-blowing mixed with the rest of the instruments. Oh, how you laughed! I was surprised, which made you laugh harder. You had a fantastic imagination and could entertain yourself for hours. Once, you brought three stones from the garden into the house. Your mother and I checked in on you from time to time as you quietly played with them, content in your made-up world. When I asked you what you were doing you introduced me to your play by saying, "This is the mommy rock, this is the daddy rock, and this is the baby rock!", and back you went to their interactions. You loved to explore and climb, even when you were barely walking. l'd follow you up the stairs, close behind, hands out ready in case you slipped, but you never did. When you got older, you liked the climbing walls at the parks and would head straight for them, again with me following in case you missed a step, but you were utterly sure-footed. You were bold! I called you "daddy's little adventurer". We walked in the Coulees when weather allowed. You often ran ahead of me a short distance and then stopped to wait. If you got tired, l'd carry you back up the hill. I wanted to instill in you a love for nature and physical activity, because our childhood experiences shape us as adults. These are some of my favourite memories of you. Everything we did was always about being together. I remember one day how you reminded me of this. You wanted to play with LEGOs. This set had a Barbie theme. You tip the full box onto the carpet and I notice with some trepidation how much pink there is. "Which girl do you want to be?", you ask. Uh-oh. We play, with you ad-libbing the roles. Next, you want to play cards. I've already taught you all the kid-friendly games I know and you want something new, so I go online to find rules for card games. You grow restless. "Here", you say, dealing out the cards, "We're going to play a game l just made up". You explain your rules and they make a surprising amount of sense, considering you're so little and thought of them on the spot in two minutes. On both of these occasions, the aim of the games was not to play the games. It was to interact, bond, and have fun together. This was always our main focus whenever we did anything and I am so glad you had this attitude of togetherness. As you grew older there were times when you'd occasionally struggle with something yourself, like at your first few Swim-and-Gym classes. You didn't want to continue, because you felt like everyone was better than you (I think they'd been going for longer). I told you that many things are difficult at first, but the more you do them the better you get and the better you get the more you enjoy them and, in any case, the idea is to have fun and get to know people. So you went back and when you got home you enthusiastically told me about how you'd enjoyed yourself. My goal was to foster in you an attitude of self-acceptance and curiosity, rather than the perfectionism that I had wrestled with in my own life. Many parents want their children to have lives that are free from things they themselves went through. In this and other things, I wanted the very best for you and I always prayed for you to be filled with peace and joy in your life. You had a lovely nature. You were so caring, thoughtful, and kind, among so many other positive traits. Everything about you was perfect. After I moved back to Australia, my heart ached for you constantly and I missed you every day. I would see something I wished I could share with you, or hear children laugh, or see kids playing with their fathers, or any other million things, and miss you deeply. Before I left you made me cards and drawings and they are my most treasured possessions. It was always my ultimate goal that we would reconnect and have a loving, close father-daughter relationship. l imagined us doing things together again, laughing, experiencing the joys of life, and me being a solid foundation of support for you, where you felt safe and calm. Of course, the most important thing is that you were loved and cared for, regardless of where that came from. And so I would like to thank your mother and step-father for doing this. Alya, you have sailed to a distant land, beyond my reach in this life. And all the dreams that we have longed to share, all the words I now speak to empty air — on that far shore we will meet again, on that far shore of that distant land. In my prayer I have felt that God took you to be with Him to keep you safe. I love you, Alya.