Mar. 30, 2006 – Originally published by CNC, Inc.

Teenagers: We Love You – We Just Absolutely Love You

Our little town of Reading has been brought very low lately by the deaths of three wonderful teenagers - first Alyssa Dion, who passed away Feb. 8, and then Amanda Nadeau and Scott Connelly, who passed away on March 17. You can see it in the faces of friends and strangers - suffering, shock, a disbelief that these people are gone. How do those who love them go on? How do we make sense of these unfathomable losses?

Teenagers, you should know something. We love you - just absolutely love you. We don't love your grades, your trophies, or your futures - what you might become - we love you right now, as you are. Each one of you is special, and here for a purpose. You might not know that, because the world is trying to teach you something different - that you have to be skinny, or gorgeous, or tough, or street-smart, or world-weary, even, to matter. You might think you have to have it all figured out. This is not true.

In each one of you is the "real you," and it has nothing to do with the outer you that we all see. This "real you" is what makes you unique from each other person on this planet. Your life is important and to be treasured, even when things go wrong. Did you ever feel that you were ugly, or worthless, or that you seem to disappoint everyone in your life? Well, you're not, and you don't. Being a teenager is hard. And, it passes (thank goodness!) I've done it once, and I wouldn't have what it takes to do it again. And your world is harder, and somewhere along the line we adults might have let childhood slip away from you, as we wired you up with cell phones and video games and schedules, and we forgot you need lots of grass and long walks to nowhere and a grown-up within arm's reach to comfort you and make you your favorite breakfast and tell you how amazing you are, even when you don't get the grades or you don't make the team.

All of you are special, and when we, your parents, see you we also see so many other things: the way your hair used to swirl as a baby, the funny grin that only you alone possess, the times you quietly showed that "real you" in a kindness, a joke, or an insight, stunning for someone your age. We promise that you don't have to have it all figured out - we don't have it figured out either, believe me.

I didn't have the honor of knowing Amanda or Scott, although tender and funny stories poured from aching hearts make me feel as if I did. But Alyssa Dion was my friend. She was witty and kind and beautiful, and I miss her. I don't miss her grades, or her clothes, or her potential - I miss the way she would pull up in front of my house in her car and grin and roll her eyes at me because she was dropping my son off when we live yards away from the high school. I miss the way we watched fireworks together last fourth of July and she yelled up at the blazing night sky, just for the pure joy of yelling. (It was almost like she was saying, in her happy shouts into the darkness, "Illness, be gone! You cannot have this night!") I miss the way she always bent over to talk to my six-year-old, wanting to be face-to-face with him. The last meal I shared with her was pancakes, and I didn't know it was our last meal together. Instead of asking her about college, I wish I would have leaned over at the busy restaurant and said, "You mean so much to me, Alyssa, and I think about you more than you know." One of the painful mysteries of life is that we don't know that the last time is the last time.

In my faith, I have to believe that all is worked out in heaven, and that our friends, Alyssa, Amanda, and Scott, that we miss so much, are just ahead of us, not gone from us. And they, knowing more than we do about life now, I know would encourage you to see the "real you" and realize just how meaningful your life is. Andrew, recovering from the accident, our thoughts are with you, too.

Wonderful, amazing teenagers, you indeed have a whole town behind you. With lots of love.