Sunday, March 20, 2005

Pride

I am proud of a man I've come to know very well, even though he was dead before I learned his name. I met his comrade-in-arms who lost the use of his legs in the same battle that took his life. I've been to his high school, his church, his childhood home, and his wake. I've petted his cats and hugged his neighbors.

To paraphrase, once again, the amazing Jodi Picoult-- the English language offers us words like "widow" and "orphan," but there's no word whatsoever to describe a parent who has lost a child.

Go in peace

2 comments:

shannon said...

I know a man and woman who lost their son when he was nine, playing in a lake behind their parents' house. Their will to live is amazing, as they deal every day with the big gaping hole that never goes away, and continues to hurt 14 years (this month) later. Their joy and excitement at their 2-year-old granddaughter takes my breath away.
There is not one word for people who have lost their children, whether it be to illness, accidents, war, or some other great tragedy. Instead, there are several. Bereft. Couragous. Strong-willed. Amazing.
I like to call the people I know Mom and Dad.

Chunky Photojournalist Barbie said...

That's beautiful. Thank you.