“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.”
[ William Shakespeare ]
Today is the 11th of September 2011.
How much power a date has. It has become a code for a variety of emotions all across the world: 09.11.01
I have always been a strong believer in the power of words. I kept a journal from a very young age and for a long time I basically lived between the pages of my favorite books. There are books that I read over and over again and every time I finish them I feel like I am losing a good friend.
Up until this day I remember things said to me more clearly than images. The word (written or spoken) impacts me enormously and I feel that is the case for most people (if not all).
So being at loss for words is terrifying to me – it makes me feel helpless and scared.
There are not a lot of moments that I have not been able to explain, analyze and define.
09.11.01 – this series of numbers does this to me. It robes me of the ability to capture my feelings in words. Not being able to voice an emotion makes it larger than life. It makes it scary. So although I feel very inadequate in finding the right words I know I must try:
My heart aches for all the lives lost, for all the memories unbuilt, for all the words unsaid, for all kisses unkissed, for all the laughter unlaughed and the tears unwept.
I feel for the children (boys and girls) that lost a pa- rent to this tragedy more than for anybody else. I don’t want to diminish the grieving of a spouse, sibling or dear friend, but the thought of the mother- less and fatherless children literally breaks my heart and I know this is because in every bewildered look I see myself and I intertwine my grief with theirs.
I hope and pray that they will have guidance and understanding and will come out of this merely scarred and not broken.
Society has to realize that this trauma is real, it is strong and it impacts our future generation as a whole.
Fortunately I feel that there has been a lot of progress made in this area when it comes to recognising and understanding the impact it has on souls of all ages, but especially on the young ones.
In the words of Sandy Dahl, wife of Jason Dahl Pilot of Flight 93:
“If we learn nothing else from this tragedy, we learn that life is short and there is no time for hate.”
Contrarily to the old belief that “time heals all wounds”, I have come to the understanding, that time does not heal anything that has wounded us so deeply as the loss of a parent. Time may only help to stretch out the seasons of grieving and mourning and happiness and laughter.
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven”
[ Ecclesiastes 3:1 ]
As I truly belief, that a trauma of such intensity can never be diminished or healed or trust aside in any other way, all that we can truly hope for is a balance of those season.
So in closing I would say I pray for long seasonal summers for those children filled with happiness, joy and especially a sense of belonging and very short winters and during those winters I hope they have someone by their side to provide them with a warm blanket and a hot cup of cocoa.