The Sweet Here, After

Today a nation mourns.

At 11 am, GMT +1, Belgium held a moment of silence for the victims of the tragic bus accident that occurred this Wednesday in Sierre, Switzerland, killing nearly two dozen school children and six adults on the way back from a school-sponsored ski trip.

The unthinkable became thinkable to many this week, to bury your own child. It is a horrible thing, and something that happens every day, everywhere, in every country and every time. But, that makes it no less the easy concept to conceive. I have known several friends and acquaintances that have either lost a child, or nearly, and it is heart-breaking.

What makes such events even more difficult to bear is when there just is no rhyme or reason to it. The concept of Theodicy is the explanation of how there could be “evil” in a world that was created by a perfect Godhead. How could there be such imperfection at the hands of perfection?

This tragic story brought much to my mind these past two days. There is a movie called “The Sweet Hereafter” by Atom Egoyan from 1997, which tells the story of a tragic school bus accident in a small, Canadian town and the aftermath that ensues. The community is ripped apart by guilt, blame, and utter loss and confusion as to how this could happen. One of the parent’s actions are put into question about the potential cause of the accident. Families and friends are torn asunder. How can you continue living after such an event?

I had the privilege of meeting Judy Collins several years ago when I worked at the Harry Ransom Center and part of my job included meeting with several famous people. Without a doubt, Ms. Collins left the most lasting impression upon me though. She spoke with a candor and sincerity that is so rare in life, and when she spoke to you, you would feel like you were the only person on the planet. With her piercing, Sweet Judy Blue Eyes and flowing mane of shock-white hair, she gave whomever she was speaking to her total attention. One of the things she spoke about was the suicide of her son, Clark, who suffered from alcohol abuse and depression, which often go hand in hand. She spoke with such clarity and understanding, and most of all, acceptance that one would almost doubt her words if they were merely written. But, to see her and hear her in person, there was no doubt.

One of the things that she said in a similar interview with Bill Moyers was that when she got through the “fog” of his death, she was able to see that the world was a funny place and that there are the very, very simple things in life that she can enjoy and that make it possible for her to continue, including her sweet music, especially a song that she wrote about her son.

I have had to confront my own mortality and mistakes that I have made in my life that could have cost the lives of my own family, that of my young daughter and her mother several years ago. I was responsible for a single-car accident in which they were with me. To this day, I know that had I been alone, it would have been worse, or fatal, for I do believe that it was so mild because something was looking out for them, not me. But, it did happen, on a small dark, country road in Italy, when I should not have been driving after having had wine that evening, even though it was merely a short drive down the road.

But, it did happen, and I lived that night over and over in my head for years, knowing that I had been responsible. The next day, as we were part of a large project that involved many students and faculty members, I walked the grounds of the project for several hours, speaking to every member and student in person, face to face, telling them what had happened and that it had been a direct result of my irresponsible actions, and that I was sorry that they had to be a part of that experience. My life was never the same after that event, for many reasons. The nightmares eventually ceased, but the agenbite of inwit, or literally the re-morse, the re-chewing of the conscience will perhaps always be there, as is the case for all traumatic events in our lives.

What was initially, however, a negative, bitter chewing at my conscience, eventually became sweet. It became sweet because I had been given a chance to live a different life, with the constant awareness that our lives are always in the balance, sometimes from our own foolish actions, as was the case in mine, or from the capriciousness of accidents, such as what has happened this week for Belgium. Both are stark reminders that our lives are limited and that the children are unfortunately the innocent victims of both negligence and fate.

My life and my relationship with my daughter are blessed in many ways, and there is so much sweetness in our lives. I will, when she is older, need to talk to her about the issues of negligence and consequences of being responsible, both from my experiences and from those of others that I have learned vicariously through: with alcohol, with drugs, with sex, with honesty, with ... fill in the blank, but I will also speak with her about the sweetness of life and how, as Ms. Collins says, that it can be funny. It is hard to think that life is funny in times like this, because I find no humor in the thought of this week’s events nor from that dark night in Italy. There is no-thing funny about them.

Yet, there is an After, and in that After, the only consolation sometimes is to seek out that Sweetness, and to embrace it, in spite of the Bitter, Bitter indifference of the face of Death. It may take many, many years, but it is our only Hope as humans with a conscience and with memory.

May they Rest in Peace.

And, if interested, Ms. Collins says it better than I could, as with her song at the end.