Thursday, 7 July 2016

'The Worst Day'

Early morning, a death at the threshold. I saw the sorrow in her tears as she fought them back holding on to hope. But in the midst of it, I felt she knew. Part of her was sure that her husband would not come home again. But this is not a situation that life prepares you for. 

Life does not prepare you for death. And therefore, I did not comprehend.

To be taken through a nine year old's journey through his grief over his father's death, was quite honestly painful. Albeit, it was 'just' a movie, it might as well have been the story of so many people, since the movie is based on the 9/11 terror attack. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I do not know what Daldry aimed at when he directed it. But, what I have taken from it is the fact that there are things we do, that cannot be undone. 

But death defeats all. An absolute?

And yet, life goes on. 

Oskar Schell recalls the day as the 'worst day'. 

I have loved and lost but once so far. My grandfather. Over nine months ago. I remember my father's call that woke me up. I heard his words and merely passed the phone to my brother. I had no reaction then either. Until my uncle called with plans of travel. Pain in each voice from that moment on. The dead one was gone. The living grieved. Sorrow. And as reminded once again as I watched the movie, the feeling of pure helplessness, There is nothing you can do about it. An upsetting fact. 

Perhaps it was one of my worst days. 

Nine months later, to think of the fact brings tears and pain. I do not like to talk about it. But the memories of him bring joy, bring strength and the reminder that LIFE persists. It cannot end, There is little comfort in the fact, but there is much hope in the reality that the choice to remember, and yet to carry on, is to let death have no hold. 

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Water's edge

The water’s edge is a strange place to be in the midst of the storm. I can feel the wind rising, but its call is but an echo in my ears. The rain has been battering against the window panes, but even that is only the sound of chimes in the air. My thoughts are louder, now, than all that is around me. I do not wish to go back. There is an escape within these waves. The storm is brewing, but I am still here. It cannot move me.

My eyes are closed, but my other senses tell me all that happens around me. The chill of the rain as it caresses my skin, the cold water that hugs my feet, the wind that bites the warmth out of me with a brutality that seeks to cause pain. The ebb, the flow, the howl, it is all but music, orchestrated like chaos. The scent and taste of salt in my hair and on my lips, draw memories into my vision. I can’t tell which ones I’d want to let go of, even if I could.

There is nowhere I have felt safer, and yet, there is nowhere more dangerous that I have been to as yet. My strength fades. I fall to the ground. There is no part of me that is not soaked to the bone, as the sea smiles in victory.  And yet, it is in the darkness of the storm, that I feel the most empowered. It is in the riot of the wind that the calm surrounds me.  

And it is amidst this assault on my senses that I feel his arms around me. I do not need to be in control. Relief washes over me as I realize that he’s found me. The storm rages ever more so, but it cannot tell whether my tears are my own or that of the rain. But I am safe as I hear him whispering in my ear, ‘I’ll always be here.’