Please Help Monique After the Loss of Her Daughter Sofia

For years, Monique d’Auteuil did not say the Rosary alone.

Her daughter Sofia was beside her.

After Sofia’s death at twenty-seven, Monique told me that she now has to say it “alone.”

Those few words convey something of the emptiness that has entered her home.

Motherhood, prayer, medical care, music, ordinary outings, hospital stays, and the familiar routines of each day had all been woven around the daughter Monique loved and cared for through twenty-seven years.

A friend, Robert Beaurivage, has established a GiveSendGo to help Monique with Sofia’s funeral expenses and the cost of moving from her current residence.

I am asking my readers to consider helping her.

DONATE TO MONIQUE’S GIVESENDGO

The life Monique and Sofia shared

Sofia was born with Partial Trisomy 10q, a rare chromosomal condition, as well as Pierre Robin syndrome. She lived with profound physical and developmental disabilities and was nonverbal.

But nonverbal did not mean without a voice.

Sofia communicated through gestures, recorded buttons, photographs she could point to, modified sign language, and open vowel sounds.

And she sang.

Monique remembers that Sofia could sometimes reproduce surprisingly complex musical phrases almost perfectly.

Music became one of the languages mother and daughter shared.

Sofia would hold her little toys in the air and make them dance when she wanted her mother to invent a song about them. One of their creations was called “Mr. Raccoon Has a Striped Tail.”

Even during periods of illness, Sofia and her mother could still make each other laugh.

That detail says something important about a life that could easily be reduced, from the outside, to diagnoses and medical difficulties.

Sofia had a personality. She had favorite things. She had a sense of humor. She had ways of telling her mother what she wanted. She could turn a toy raccoon into the beginning of a song.

She loved flowers, birds, butterflies, trips to the park, and days at the beach. At Christmastime, one of the pleasures mother and daughter shared was attending The Nutcracker.

Her musical tastes ranged widely. Sofia enjoyed children’s songs such as “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” and “Rockin’ Robin,” along with Mozart’s Sparrow Mass, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and sacred music.

She especially loved hearing her mother sing “Ave Maria.”

Their Catholic Faith also gave shape to the life they shared.

Sofia participated in the daily Rosary, and Monique remembers how happy she became when she received Holy Communion.

In 2009, an anonymous benefactor made it possible for Monique and Sofia to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes.

There were also years of illness, pain, medical emergencies, and lengthy hospital stays. Through all of them, Monique remained Sofia’s mother, caregiver, companion, advocate, and constant presence.

Monique herself lives with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a hereditary connective-tissue disorder that has become significantly disabling and has limited her ability to remain financially secure.

Now, after twenty-seven years of life centered around caring for Sofia, she must learn how to live without her daughter while also confronting funeral bills and the expense of moving.

“I have to say my daily Rosary alone now”

Of all the things Monique has told me, I keep returning to that one thought.

She and Sofia prayed the Rosary together.

Now she reaches for the beads and feels the empty place beside her.

For Catholics, there is something especially poignant about that. The Rosary is a prayer built upon mysteries of joy, sorrow, suffering, death, and glory. Monique now has to pray those mysteries from inside a grief she could once only have imagined.

There is little any of us can say that will remove that grief.

There is, however, something practical we can do.

An opportunity for Christian charity

Readers of this publication spend a great deal of time discussing the crisis in the Church, the destruction of Catholic tradition, and the responsibilities of bishops, priests, and those who exercise authority.

Here is a responsibility that belongs to the rest of us.

A Catholic mother has buried the daughter whose care ordered nearly every day of her adult life. She is grieving, physically disabled, and facing expenses she cannot easily bear.

Robert Beaurivage created a GiveSendGo to help her. The campaign states that the funds will go to Monique and will help with Sofia’s funeral expenses and the cost of moving from her current residence.

At the time I prepare this for publication, the campaign has raised only $2,425 toward its $20,000 goal.

A contribution of $10, $25, or $50 may feel modest to the person giving it.

To someone confronting funeral bills, moving costs, disability, and the sudden upheaval of a life built around caring for a beloved daughter, many modest gifts can become something substantial.

Readers who cannot contribute financially can still help by sharing the fundraiser.

And everyone can pray.

Please pray for the repose of Sofia’s soul.

Please pray for Monique as she enters a life profoundly different from the one she lived for twenty-seven years.

And when Monique takes up her Rosary each day, please ask Our Lady to remain especially close to a mother who now feels the absence of the daughter who once prayed beside her.

“Whilst we have time, let us work good to all men, but especially to those who are of the household of the faith.”

—Galatians 6:10

Please help Monique

DONATE TO MONIQUE’S GIVESENDGO

Please give what you can, share this appeal, and remember both mother and daughter in your prayers.

(This article is being published with Monique’s knowledge and permission. The photographs accompanying it have been selected from photographs she specifically authorized for use with this appeal.)*** UPDATE***

Message from Monique (8/9/26):

“Thank you everyone! I’m very grateful to those who have prayed, shared, and donated. Your messages are very touching, as well. The Lord has used you to save me from drowning financially, emotionally, and spiritually. May Sofia pray for all of you.”