Then early the next morning, we received a very distressed phone call from our daughter Angela, informing us that our five month old granddaughter, Ada Teresa Bradshaw had not woken up. She had died during the night, and in their house were ambulance and police officers as well as one of my other daughters, Monica.
The six weeks that have passed since then have been filled with great grief.
Along with Angela, Sam and Ezekiel, none of us are the same people we were on Sunday 20th December. We are all changed and we are trying to learn how to live this ‘new normal’. We have lived a reality that is beyond imagining. Each day is a struggle as we take a ‘stab in the dark’ as to how best to live in the present with each of us experiencing and expressing this great loss.
I am grateful for the gift of faith and the amazing words of comfort and prayer that have been extended to Allen and me, especially from so many around the diocese. Angela and Sam have also experienced the generosity of their friends and work colleagues who have reached out to them.
When Angela, Sam, Ezekiel and Ada holidayed with us in November, I recall Angela holding Ada in her arms and expressing the absolute love which Ada held for her in her eyes. Ada had a way of looking into her world with love and those who held her and encountered her knew this. I hope, with time, that this gaze of love will fill up the empty hearts of her parents and those of us who knew her more intimately.
At her funeral, Father Paul Eloagu, from Sacred Heart Catholic Church, part of Surfer’s Paradise Parish, spoke of Ada’s mission, even though she had lived just a short time. Powerfully, Angela and Sam continue to speak of her purpose and how everyone’s life is changed by her life and death.
So our Christmas, New Year, Australia Day and the day that was to be her Baptism Day have been forever changed.
I would like to share with you the Celtic Blessing with which Sam, Ada’s dad, concluded his reflection at her funeral:
Celtic Blessing
She does not leave, she is not gone
She looks upon us still
She walks among the valleys now
She strides upon the hill
Her smile is in the summer rain
Her grace is in the breeze
Her mem’ries whisper in the grass
Her calm is in the trees
Her light is in the winter snow
Her tears are in the rain
Her merriment runs in the brook
Her laughter in the lane
Her gentleness is in the flowers
Her sigh in autumn leaves
She does not leave, she is not gone
‘Tis only we that grieve
So I do not know how this year will unfold for me or for our beautiful family. I have held my daughter and felt her deep pain, a pain that has no healing, and a pain that seeps into our cells and our DNA. We will gradually learn to live with this, and our God will be with us and carry us. I know many of you will continue to hold us in prayer, and for that support, I thank you. It is comforting to know that people are remembering you, and holding you.
I hope for those of you who have experienced a similar loss, that you too know the love of God and God’s people.
Just a reminder to you that we begin Lent next week.
My last message was written on the last Sunday of Advent and this message precedes Lent by one week. How good it is to have our liturgical seasons to keep forming and informing us in our ways of being and living.