Tsunami Thoughts
It was raining very hard this morning as I drove to work. My wife was in the car with me along with my 18 month old son and 6 year old daughter. As I was driving my wife shared with me the Oprah show she watched last night while she couldn't sleep.
The show she talked about had a couple who had lost their son in some tragedy. It was a very sad story, and everyone was deeply touched but the incredible amount of sadness and vulnerability that the parents displayed while on the show. At one point Oprah stopped the conversation with the parents, and addressed the audience, noting the great feeling of loss that everyone was feeling for this family. "Now," she said, "magnify that by 260,000 and you will have some idea of how much sadness there is in the world right now from the recent tsumani that took that many lives. That's more than a million people left who are in deep grief."
After the tsunami happened I found myself trying to comprehend what this meant. I experienced the same type of feeling when 9/11 happened. As I watched the video of the planes crashing into the tower over and over again, my mind trying to comprehend what had just happened, I found myself unable to understand the meaning of such a tragedy. The same thing happened to me as I watched several of the home videos published on the web of the recent tsunami in the Indian Ocean. In one video, all you can see is the ocean rushing over the land like a raging river, carrying houses, cars, and most certainly people. You can hear the crying of children in this video and the mother is saying something in a soothing voice. Even though I do not understand the language that the mother was speaking, I am certain I know what she was saying... "It's gonna be alright. It will stop soon and we will be alright." In my mind I can't help but imagine if it was me and I was with my children in those circumstances. I would be terrified for their safety. I would feel rage at the helplessness of my situation. And I would reassure my children calmly all the while praying that the house we were standing in would hold and not get washed into the torrent of water.
Time to take a deep breathe.
I'd like to think that there would always be some heroic act that I could do that would save my children if needed, but I know that is probably not true. We are all so small, our physical bodies so fragile. What a great lesson on the importance of being in the present moment, and of cherishing the time we have together.
Many years ago I heard a person speak about his experience being "dead". He was clinically dead for 15 minutes, but the doctors and nurses with him at the time kept on performing CPR and pumping oxigen into his body. His heart stopped beating and then started back up again. He had one message that he wanted to share with everyone, and that was the importance of love. Nothing else matters in the end. We do not remember all of the times we were angry, or disappointed, nor do we grieve for any of the things we wanted to do but didn't. We simply feel all of the love we shared in our life, and remember all of the times we felt the expressions of love. This keeps me going. It keeps me from making the mistake of persuing financial gain that takes me away from those whom I love, or from running from the overwelming stress (at times) of marriage and parenting. It keeps me honest, and it keeps me real.
I pray for the many, many people who are suffering so greatly right now. And I go... onward.
The show she talked about had a couple who had lost their son in some tragedy. It was a very sad story, and everyone was deeply touched but the incredible amount of sadness and vulnerability that the parents displayed while on the show. At one point Oprah stopped the conversation with the parents, and addressed the audience, noting the great feeling of loss that everyone was feeling for this family. "Now," she said, "magnify that by 260,000 and you will have some idea of how much sadness there is in the world right now from the recent tsumani that took that many lives. That's more than a million people left who are in deep grief."
After the tsunami happened I found myself trying to comprehend what this meant. I experienced the same type of feeling when 9/11 happened. As I watched the video of the planes crashing into the tower over and over again, my mind trying to comprehend what had just happened, I found myself unable to understand the meaning of such a tragedy. The same thing happened to me as I watched several of the home videos published on the web of the recent tsunami in the Indian Ocean. In one video, all you can see is the ocean rushing over the land like a raging river, carrying houses, cars, and most certainly people. You can hear the crying of children in this video and the mother is saying something in a soothing voice. Even though I do not understand the language that the mother was speaking, I am certain I know what she was saying... "It's gonna be alright. It will stop soon and we will be alright." In my mind I can't help but imagine if it was me and I was with my children in those circumstances. I would be terrified for their safety. I would feel rage at the helplessness of my situation. And I would reassure my children calmly all the while praying that the house we were standing in would hold and not get washed into the torrent of water.
Time to take a deep breathe.
I'd like to think that there would always be some heroic act that I could do that would save my children if needed, but I know that is probably not true. We are all so small, our physical bodies so fragile. What a great lesson on the importance of being in the present moment, and of cherishing the time we have together.
Many years ago I heard a person speak about his experience being "dead". He was clinically dead for 15 minutes, but the doctors and nurses with him at the time kept on performing CPR and pumping oxigen into his body. His heart stopped beating and then started back up again. He had one message that he wanted to share with everyone, and that was the importance of love. Nothing else matters in the end. We do not remember all of the times we were angry, or disappointed, nor do we grieve for any of the things we wanted to do but didn't. We simply feel all of the love we shared in our life, and remember all of the times we felt the expressions of love. This keeps me going. It keeps me from making the mistake of persuing financial gain that takes me away from those whom I love, or from running from the overwelming stress (at times) of marriage and parenting. It keeps me honest, and it keeps me real.
I pray for the many, many people who are suffering so greatly right now. And I go... onward.
posted by Jason at
10:07 AM
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