8.19.2010

fair

I guess I could try to make this about something bigger, but I may as well skip the boring allegory.  Here's what happened:  my real-life-flesh-and-blood cousin just lost her 6 month old baby, who was shaken to death by my cousin's (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend.

Everyone in the family keeps trying to find a logic for it.  For example, my mother keeps reminding me that the (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend has a lot of tattoos.  Or, tonight "that poor girl doesn't need anyone pointing fingers at her right now, but she really made some bad choices." My grandmother insisted she didn't have her address, pointedly stating that "I have no idea what her name even is anymore."  (My reaction seems to be avoiding the situation by pointing out my mothers' bad behavior.)

In my brain as I do housework and think about my poor poor cousin, who also lost her father just 6 months back: fair and unfair.
About the tragedy itself.
About people's reactions to the tragedy.
About what we can and can't control and why we respond how we do. 

My metaphorical-larger-sense cousin Scott lost someone earlier this year.  Emotions run high. Old grudges surface.  He said 'there is a window of time where anyone is allowed to say anything, and it has to be okay.  You chalk it up to grief.'

I think that's fair. Sort of a supreme fairness.

It doesn't help my cousin much right now, though.  Neither does my stupid card.  Or the nightmare I had last night where I witnessed miles and miles of slaughter and carnage and could do nothing but cry and keep walking.

bah.

hi, welcome back to my blog, my trip was nice.

4 comments:

Sarah said...

Wow, definitely not what I was expecting as your first (long-awaited) blog update following your trip. But no need to apologize about not making it about something "bigger." Despite the sadness it can induce, I think we can always use a reminder of the fragility of life. That kick in the posterior to remember to be grateful for all that we have. I don't know your cousin, but she is in my thoughts. (and if the evil-doer is not ex yet, that is a PROBLEMON (a BIG problem)).

Jeremy said...

Oh, that is horrible, horrible.

We visited Donna's grave yesterday, and next to it was the new grave of an 18-year-old girl, covered with fresh flowers. I searched; her online obituary was almost detail-free. A suicide? No way to know.

People die, horribly and suddenly for no reason at all. Logic... the only way to find logic in it is to fit it into your already established patterns of thought, which were usually made up during less terrible times and aren't really equipped for the awful things that happen.

I'm sorry for you, and your cousin, and the baby.

--Jeremy

nora said...

I am so sorry, sweetpea.

It is all terribly terrible. There are no good words.

Lacy said...

You are all so kind. I feel like a fraud claiming this in any way as my tragedy.
I don't mean to.

yeah, no one's defenses are really equipped for the awful things, Jeremy.