Life Experiences: Death

Death is something that everyone experiences at one time or another. It's one of those inevitable things that no matter how much we try to avoid it, it always shoves its way in. All death is tragic, don't get me wrong, but there is something about a child's death that just hits you that slightest bit harder in the heart. I've experienced it twice. Being 15 for one, and 17 for the other, I feel like I dealt with it a little better. When I was 15 my second cousin who had a brain tumor passed away less than three days before her fourth birthday. It was heart crushing. "Coffins shouldn't be made that small," was the only thought running through my mind in that exact moment. I was so upset over the fact that coffins need to be made that small, that I didn't, or rather couldn't, cry. It seems like a strange way of coping, but in a way it took my mind off of the real reason as to why I was there, just thinking about all the things wrong with the situation. The second time hit me a little harder. This is strange because I wasn't related to her. Again it was a brain tumor. A little girl, 9 years old, in grade 4. She was one of my sister's closest friends, despite being oone year younger. They were in the same class, a grade 2/3 split. I cooped at a time when this little girl was in another off and on stage. I distinctly remember helping my sister write letters to her when she was off school for long periods of time because of the cancer. I remember my sister telling me stories about them in gym, and how my sister would stay inside with her during recess since she couldn't go outside. It touched my heart. My sister had just started her yeear in grade 3 when we found out. My mom was the one who told us. So many feelings rushed through my mind at that moment. Sadness, anger, confusion, and denial. The funeral was the next week and the school was letting people off for the day to attend the funeral. My mom took my brother and sister, but unfortunately I wasn't able to go due to a test at my school. All I could picture was my little sister, fragile and hurt, at this little girl's funeral. She had become so close with her in such a period of time and I could tell that she admired her despite her frailness and appearance that often got her made fun of. I still can't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that she is gone, especially when I see her little sister. I brings back one small memory of my sisters friend. I was in grade 7 and we were helping the kindergarteners pick out little gifts for their family at our school special christmas sale. She was holding my hand telling me about her three year old sister at home and how much she wanted to see her smile christmas morning when she opened her gift. She wanted it to be perfect. We spent 45  minutes picking out the gift that was just right and then she asked me if I could carry it up to her class with her and help her pack it up. Then I think about all the memories my sister had with her. If I was hurting so much with just one, how could she possibly be dealing with it? It's been about a year and a half and still that  question remains unanswered. Not once did I see her cry. Not once did I see her get angry. She just accepted the fact and remained calm. Maybe it was the only solution for her to cope. The day after my funeral my sister took her favourite doll and said, "This is Samantha. I never want to forget my friend." and walked away. Now she brings this doll with her everywhere she goes. I always wonder if she imagines her friend there with her when she slides down with the doll at the park, or when she dances around our room with her to the songs her teacher is teaching her in school. I want to ask, but I don't think I'll ever have the courage to bring her up to my sister.