[좋은 글] 세월호 in Korea

세월호 사건이 일어난 즈음 보았던 글을
공유해본다.

자식을 먼저 떠나 보낸 부모님들에게는
그 어떤 말이나 글이 위로가 되지 않을 것이다.

그래도 한 번쯤 읽어 볼만한 내용이다.

사랑하는 사람과의 이별을 받아 들이기
어렵다.

하지만, 그 사람과 함께 했던 행복했던 시간은
나에게 큰 선물이었다고
그래서 오늘을 감사하는 마음으로
잘 살아내자고....

 

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

 

On March 31, one of my close friends from Hong Kong died after a yearlong battle with cancer. On April 16, so many children and others perished on the sunken Sewol ferry in Korea.

Somehow these two things coming together have hit me so hard that I now seem to think of nothing but death.

I mope around heavy-hearted and unmotivated. Everything I am looking at is colored with sadness and finality. Even the beautiful ocean in front of our apartment that used to stir up my spirit with a sense of wonder now only deepens the sad realization that life is fragile and temporary.

Traditionally, “Till death do us part” is a part of the wedding vow that two people getting married are called upon to recite at their union.

However, all the relationships in our life journey seem to include this simple truth. We are together till death separates us. Death is beyond our control. Death is a fact of life.

It’s been almost a year since our dog, Lappi, died in his sleep at the ripe old doggy age of 15. I still haven’t been able to come to terms with his absence.

I’ve been reading books with true dog stories to conjure up my time with him by relating to other people’s memories of their beloved dogs. I chuckle and smile at the similarities I find in their descriptions. So, for a short while, I escape from the reality that Lappi will never return to me. His death is final.

I even look at my husband with new understanding. I cannot imagine a life without him. Then I think of all those parents whose children died in the sunken ferry.

I can’t begin to imagine what it is like to wake up in the morning knowing that your child is not on this earth any more. How do they find the desire to go on? How can they shrug off the dark thoughts flooding in and weighing so heavily upon them?

As I was searching for ways to lift myself up from this energy-sapping depression, I found some words that managed to shift my thoughts slightly to a different angle about these losses.

George Patton (1885-1945), an American army general, once pointed out how we should remember those who departed from us: “It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.”

I know I was fortunate to have Lappi with me for 15 years. I am so thankful he was in my daily life in three countries, sharing my adventures in his unique canine way.

I know I was privileged to have my deceased friend Sunghee for three solid years in Hong Kong to hike, lunch and share our charitable activities together.

Her presence definitely enriched my life and added so much laughter. Intellectually, in my head, I know I should focus on the blessing that she was in my life at all. But I am not there yet in my heart.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, in her well-known 1969 book “On Death and Dying,” talks about the five stages of grief.  In her observation, to attain some degree of healing from the shock of losing someone by death, people seem to go through successive stages of denial, anger, bargaining and depression before they can finally arrive at an acceptance of death.

This process doesn’t necessarily happen in the exact order specified, but one way or another, a grieving person must deal with all these aspects, however much time it takes.

Not all are successful in restoring their lives after the death of the beloved, and some unfortunately never can accept the loss and the grief can break them.

I don’t think I ever was in stages of anger and denial regarding Sunghee and Lappi. I never thought of bargaining with God for sparing her life, and at Lappi’s ripe age it was a blessing that he went so peacefully.

But I realize I am currently stuck in the “depression” stage in my grief process, which has only been deepened by the larger disaster that has affected all Koreans and to a lesser degree all the world.

I assume most of the people who lost someone in the Sewol ferry disaster would be going through some of the five stages of grief on the way to accepting the reality of death.

I pray that their pain is not paralyzing their life, and that they all have someone strong and compassionate to help them put one foot in front of the other and slowly begin to go forward again.

I pray that one day they too will come to think that it was a privilege to have had that beloved child in their life however brief their time together was. I hug them in my mind’s eye to assist them in their grief. This too shall pass.

I hope one day we begin to live fully for those who left us already. As someone said, “The greatest gift we can give to those who have left us is to live fully in their place.”

Hyon O’Brien is a former reference librarian now living in the United States. She can be reached at hyonobrien@gmail. com.