Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I’m looking at a photo in our local newspaper of a young girl with a ponytail and the sweetest smile on her face. Her name is Amanda, and the article recounts her love of basketball, volleyball, a good book, and pizza. This article is nestled among other profiles of considerably older men and women. I found it on the obituary page. She was seventeen.

On her twelfth birthday, Amanda was diagnosed with a kidney disorder. Dialysis and, finally, a kidney transplant gave her five more years; but in the end the disease claimed her.

I didn’t know Amanda or her family. But whenever I read the obituary of a child or teenager, regardless of the cause of death, I am struck with what a terrible tragedy it is, not only for the family but also for the community at large. Who knows what important contribution has been lost forever?

Now there is a void that Amanda once filled. Her four sisters and one brother feel it. Her school friends, the neighbors, the health care professionals, countless others feel it too. Even I, a total stranger, am touched.

Then there are her parents. The term for a child who loses both parents is ‘orphan.’ But as far as I know there is no term for a mother and father who lose a child before that child is grown and out the door. I think it’s because one word cannot convey so much grief.