on December 13th, 2009 by mark
I’ve covered a lot of interesting stories. Most of the time, I find myself learning to be detached. I’m a reporter, a correspondent and I cover mostly feature and human interest stuff, not hard news.
But tonight, detachment was hard. I covered the Compassionate Friends Network World Wide Candlelighting service here in Ventura County. A community of people united by the grief of the death of a child gathered to light candles, say their names and remember them. This is without a doubt the most moving story I’ve covered.
As I interviewed the event’s organizer, a woman walked into the Narthex of the Catholic church where the event was held, sobbing uncontrollably, and said, “This is my first time. I don’t know what to do.” My interviewee excused herself and went to the woman. Her words weren’t just about the service, it seemed to me.
People I talked to would not recount the way in which their children died. Most barely mentioned it and some, like one retired Naval officer to whom I spoke, called his son’s date of death his “angel date.” I got the chills.
One woman discussed all of the things that have happened since her son’s death. She did a mission trip to Sri Lanka and helped build shelters for children. While there, she met a young man, about 20, he reminded her of her son when he was that age–he died at 34. She said that the two became close and he didn’t want her to leave. When the day came for her to board the plane, he gave her a ring of saffire, the precious stone of that country. It was also her son’s birthstone. She had never told the young man about her son.
Energy expended on frivolous worry, vain pursuits and hollow victories will never fill us up.
“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those they leave behind.”
Amen.
Posted in Culture, Work/writing life
