The Mourning After

The old saying that time heals all wounds is not absolutely true. Much of the world events today are born of things that happened in the past.

The American President George W. Bush’s hatred for Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. The escalating Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Everything can be traced to historical roots.

Is it so unreasonable for people to put things in perspective and move on to a better, more hopeful future?

Why can’t people just get over it and get a life?

Three days ago, my family observed a quiet memorial day. It was the first year anniversary of the death of my nephew, who would have been two this year.

I still remember the time I received the call.

It seemed like any other day. Slog at work, come home to my Macintosh. Then the call came. And everything came crashing down. If anything it was the screaming in my head that made me feel like my being had exploded and had spread out over a thin area. I was bouncing off walls for the wrong reasons with no destination. The feeling of not knowing what to do, the inability to change what cannot be changed, was overwhelming.

One year on, that has not left me.

I enjoy my bus trips to work. Sometimes, those few minutes give me some of my better ideas for work. Since then however, I’ve also been visited with memories. Just like my better ideas, these memories come out of the blue. And the same screaming returns.

Perhaps it stems from a sense of guilt. Contrary to being a good Muslim, I sometimes find myself questioning the logic of such a loss. He was a special child. It is a stand I take not because he was my nephew, but because it is a fact. They say every child is special and that may be true. But this baby was an old soul with a mind that was learning and processing at a very fast rate. So why this child?

I toyed with the possibility of punishment. Did my family do something wrong to deserve this? Were we being dealt with in this life for our vanity? Truly, the baby was a source of joy and pride. I myself thought he was so cute and more importantly, gentle that I put him in one of my film projects. Even my crew felt that he was so much better than the other child we had on standby. That made me feel proud.

Historically speaking, vanity has always been punished with tragedy. Just look at Michael Jackson. Moot point.

Still, the reasons why eludes me. And perhaps that is how it is meant to be. They say that everything happens for a reason. But maybe that reason is not for us to know.

Yesterday my manager was reviewing a trailer I was cutting for the movie “The Accidental Tourist”. In it, a couple had to deal with the premature death of their pre-teen son. The anguish and the sorrow, the impact of the family seemed all too close for comfort.

My manager asked me why people couldn’t just deal with the tragedy of loss and move on.

It was then that I learned something.

For all the sayings of a better tomorrow, only one thing is true. That until Armageddon is upon us, there is always a tomorrow. Is it better? That is something else.

For me, the pain does not soften as it is tied to memories. Memories are potent deliverers of what you no longer have. You do not stop grieving over losses, you never do. You take it and store it aside in an attempt to cope and carry on. But the mourning never ceases. So while you do not wake up with a puffy face, swollen eyes and a major headache like the first morning after the loss, you do not stop mourning regardless.

I don’t think we are meant to forget when something as monumental as this happens. As humans, we are given a will. And that is what you will have to use to manage the loss.

So you don’t forget. You never do. And for all the things that are happening in the world today, you can’t knock the fact that the past is an active ingredient to what will happen in qqthe present and future.