A tough life lesson

How do you explain death to a 9 year old?  There have been losses of important people (Lynda and Whitey) in my life. But, while they may have cared about my kids, my children never felt a real connection to them. Their losses were very painful for me, and the kids saw the grief and heard the church-inbred dialogue of "you go to heaven when you die and you become an angel".   Even the many years ago when Whitey's daughter Vickie passed from leukemia, I didn't buy all that propaganda. When it was her father whose coffin I stood over and put a flower on in the cemetery, it didn't make any more sense than it had all the years before.

Our 11 year old friend Bridget was diagnosed with a brain tumor 4 years ago. She is in her final days of her battle. She is at home, receiving hospice care, and not in any pain.

Her family is awesome. We met them through the Shamrock Preschool in Woburn. Bridget's mom and I hit it off right away- it helped we were the only other moms of 4, therefore very strange commodities at the preschool. I *think* all our kids also had the one preschool teacher there I think is fabulous.

Bridget and her little brother became buddies with my kids. We were never  super-close friends with her family, but we did go to the zoo, visit playgrounds, and have playdates together. Julia's other "best" preschool friend, Jenna, was friends with Bridget and the three girls got along beautifully.  I have pictures of Bridget celebrating Julia's birthdays and Julia celebrated at least one of hers, too (making pottery!).

When Andrew was in the midst of getting his first comprehensive neuro-pyschological exam, it was Bridget's mom who was my rock. She worked for the doctor and was a God-send to me at a time when I was still trying to understand why God had "given" Will and I a child with autism. Having a little kid who is as cute as a button, but doesn't really talk or act like other children (I think Andrew was 4?) was not an easy walk at that time especially.  Cheryl was so positive and made me realize other kids liked Andrew just fine, her Bridget among them.

Bridget and her fight has brought our community together in a million different ways. My children knew her, loved wearing their "Bridget's Buddies" plastic (a la Livestrong) bracelets.  I would run into her dad at our local Dunkin Donuts often and get updates from him. We walked, virtually that is, on the Jimmy Fund team named in her honor. Bridget was someone we knew once and continued to pray for and cheer on.

Emily has been taking this hard. She wanted to write a message on the website set up for Bridget and maintained by her mom.  She wrote the sweetest thing. Alongside messages from her former preschool teachers, friends of Bridget's from town and from camp, many other patients and families who deal with pediatric brain tumors, and family, Emily wrote a message in pink because she thought Bridget would like it.

I don't understand why Bridget is dying. I don't understand why there is not a cure for this disease and why children have to suffer. I am struggling with how to talk to my children about all of this. When Bridget does become an angel and is no longer suffering here on Earth, how will E understand that? Nevermind, how I am going to tell J, already so fragile.

Life is so short, the best advice I can give my kids is to be kind and always help others and to try to make amends if you fail.  Certainly, those are words I have tried to live by and the "making amends"  part can be hard. All we can do is live in a way which we can be proud of. I think Bridget's kindness, strength, and joy personify the best here is in humanity and we will miss her very much. And there is no Bible verse which can help me understand any of this.

Update: Bridget earned her "angel wings" early this morning (January 14, 2010).  My thoughts and prayers go out to the Sweeney family, her mom and dad, and her three siblings especially.