It goes on . . .

Füsun Atalay ~ Copyright © 2009

The helicopter tragedy that had been unfolding since March 12th in St John's has left me with deep sadness and thoughts which I can finally put into words. I can do so partly because I saw many familiar faces from the past talk about the incident or recite poetry on TV, and allowed myself be overcome by a tsunami of emotion and longing for a place and life from which I feel so far away now.

I watched CBC's coverage of the memorial service at the St John's Basilica. It was a very poignant experience for me although mine is so different from the loss of those whose loved ones were swallowed by the sea. But that the service was a multi-faith one, that my former student Justin flew in to pay his respect, that I was so familiar with the setting and even picked out a face (or maybe two) among the crowd panned by the TV cameras filled me up with tears. I remembered watching Justin and Sacha's train ride from Ottawa to Montreal when their father passed away, and Justin reading his eulogy which ended,"Je t'aime, Papa." I was living in St John's at that time, feeling a similar nostalgia and longing for the familiar landmarks I had left back in Montreal.

I never had a proper closure with you; but I think this service— held for people I didn't even know, in a land I left far away in the past —and the prayers, which would be comforting to anyone who has experienced the loss of a loved one be it through mortality or other means, were the closest to a closure for me as well.

Isn't it strange how life creates such poignant connections through unrelated events for us ?

The three words quoted from Robert Frost: "it (life) goes on", concluding the service, made me realize that as simple as it sounds, or as much as I had been thinking that it would be impossible, life has gone on so far, and will continue doing so without you. It is up to me to make something worthwhile of that life now, because it will not stop and wait until I feel I am ready.

Sometimes, when we feel so much pain and grieve a loss, even a simple nugget of wisdom is shrouded like a great mystery that we fail to see— until something happens. In this case it was a tragedy that touched the lives of 17 families which shook me up and showed me what I had been missing all this while. Because of this I feel even closer to those families —not only in their grief and loss but also (unbeknown to them) for teaching me something that has set my spirit free after its long and painful journey.

In the ensuing self analysis, I began to understand that my inner peace depends on my own integrity and sense of vindication— not necessarily happiness. If I respect myself and can live with a clear conscience, happiness may come as a result. What I had been trying to reclaim was that wholeness and independence of which you cunningly deprived me.

Keep what you took, beloved, for my heart abounds in plenty !

As one of my favorite poets wrote:

". . . the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose!"

Füsun Atalay ~ Copyright © 2009