Universal Truths

The universe gives me plenty to wonder about-  like how the planets each follow a controlled orbital path and how starlight is incredibly old light.  I feel equally protected from and awed by these colossal, constant realities. 

Today, the universe continues to be plentiful but with a sad wonder.  I feel less protected.  I also feel awestruck by some bright lights which have been extinguished much too soon.  Three Boston University students studying abroad in New Zealand died when their van rolled over on May 12. Two days earlier, the son of a woman I've become friends with in the last year died from kidney cancer.

They were all in their twenties. 
They were ferocious about life. 
They were the best of what we can become.

There are many degrees of separation from these young adults and myself.  Yet their orbits are in my universe.  My daughter is a BU student who arrived home from her semester abroad in London on May 11.  She is an acquaintance of one of the students who was hurt and is familiar with those who died. She scrambled to connect with her college friends as, in the vernacular of the day, the news 'blew up' on Facebook hours after she arrived home.  

I understand that a deadly car accident can occur whether one is 9 or 9,000 miles from home but I ached for the parents who not only had to receive such news, but who were so terribly far from their children.  There is a certain degree of parental liberation from fear when our adult children are out of reach.  I can anxiously wait up for my teenage driver who is due home by 11pm but have no reason to lie awake at night when my twenty year old child is hours (or countries) away at college. I cannot affect her comings and goings.  Yet, it all comes to a spectacular halt when news such as the BU students' deaths shockingly arrives.

I felt tension in my chest when my daughter shared the news.  I went to the "what does this mean to me" place.  I clearly understood the capricious nature of the universe as I looked at my study abroad daughter who spent her first night home safe in her familiar room. I recalled how many times I passed that room and thought of her, and texted "Sending you mommy love."  I thought of those families who would not see their study abroad children alive again.  It's a cold fact - this could happen to any of us - anytime.  

The jolt of this news was in vivid contrast to the protracted nature of my friend's son's illness.   I've listened to her as she watched her boy unwillingly submit to cancer's persistent, inhumane call for months.  I never met him, but have witnessed his mother manage the array of emotional and practical burdens cancer brings.  She is exquisite in how she can share her pain and hear about mine with the same intensity.  One of the things she railed against was when I (or anyone else) would separate her pain from ours.  She would set me straight in plain terms.  If I said something like "my problems are nothing compared to yours" she insisted that kind of statement separated her from me and diminished her along with our friendship. 

As startling as it was to hear this, I quickly understood how easily I fell into the faulty chasm of cliche and marveled as I watched others do the same and become schooled by my friend.  Pain is pain. It is one truth.  She shared her conversations, her frustration, the hope and the loss of hope with unforgiving clarity.  She met her son's relentless cancer with a rigid resolve of love.  

The BU parents have been jolted into death's chamber while my friend has been slowly dragged toward it. The speed may differ but the trajectory is the same.   I watched all this from the sidelines wanting to ease the pain, knowing I could not. 

How will they know peace once the memorials and condolences fade? How will they hear life now that that they have been blasted by the sound of death?  I pray that a flicker of strength stirs and grows to sustain them for as long as it takes.  For now, we feel the pain.  

Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead.'
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

BU Today article re: study abroad accident: http://www.bu.edu/today/2012/three-students-dead-in-new-zealand-crash/