The anguish of such grief lasts until the person dies Some people suffer alone in the shadows of their minds, while others grieve while keeping as busy as possible, such as writing or competing in sports and politics.
It has been said that circus clowns who laugh and make audiences happy, often hide sorrow within their souls over the death of a child–Red Skeleton immediately comes to mind. Mark Twain wept in in silence over the deaths of his children, and how about the Kennedy family,
Dear Ones,
You know what I mean. For many people observing the bereaved notice how eventually they regain their former light spirits–if they had them in the first place. But the shock through death of a child is often covered up to face survival. On the outside those affected for life seem to be jolly or at least happy. But deep down within those whose loses pulse with each heart beat, there are additional chambers within the heart that never forgets.
Faces of the bereaved sometimes reflect the cheeriest smiles. But this is often a defense mechanism and a way of people subconsciously whispering, "I don't want to be asked how I feel, for those who have not lost a child have not seen the chained gates in dark caverns of hell where's there's no retreat."
Robin Williams was the lead in a profound movie about where have all the dreams gone. The character he played lost two youths in an accident. Williams captured on film the very essence of emotion and passion of love, children and death.
Some people take on new hobbies or dedicate themselves to helping others. In this respect I think of doctors without borders, many who have lost a child, trying to save the lives of other children. Think of the world's youths who are recruited to kill other youths, while these doctors are trained to save young people and keep their families from the tragedy of their early deaths.
Think of all the parents who have lost their children, sacrificed as in the days of yore for "war what for"–a 1910 title of a book condemning combat. War economies depend upon the lives of youths who often die or commit suicide, as its ammunition and bombs cause genocidal, generational child deformities. Chemical ammo causing forced abortions among citizens rain down upon mothers with little children nuked and pregnant women. Through lethal droppings of aggression from the sky, parents are the only ones who hear the cries of their afflicted babies forever blown in the wind. The vulture of war pecks upon the carrian of the young.
Think of masters of war proudly proclaiming in public prayer, "We're thankful for all the soldiers who have sacrificed their youths and their lives for us." There's a certain blasphemy in uttering such a statement. The high brass who have never witnessed combat or the death of a child, are clueless.
They come and go speaking of Michelangelo and wastelands of corpses strewn out on rural fields and urban war zones–blood and guts. T. S. Eliot wrote poetry with masked thoughts still true to this day.
Oh. how proud the glory and patriotism of war, never having to look into the face of tears, strife and no return. Not all Johnnys come marching home,
Mame,
helenesmith1.blog spot.com helenesmith@(macdonaldsward)
