Nothing causes more grief than the finality of death. Just recently, we in Barbados memorialized the tragic and untimely passing of the six young women who perished in the Campus Trendz fire.
Another young woman fell to her death in the city only last week. We’re hearing of more fatal accidents and shootings than we did before. Radio, television and newspapers remind us, relentlessly, that death is ever present. We can’t help but be conscious of our own mortality; one day, we too will exit this Earth.
But while death, as we know it, causes undeniably deep distress, I want us to ponder awhile on the idea of the “living” dead. I’m not referring to the zombies we hear or read about. I’m talking of the people you and I know. I’m talking about us; the deaths we experience in ourselves or witness in others even while we’re still alive.
A young child is raped, often repeatedly, by someone he or she knows. What results is the death of innocence and trust. Reports by our local Child Care Board reveal the alarming number of cases of child sex abuse. What happens to the hundreds who do not receive counselling and a chance to heal? They are with us.
They grow into adults who will likely continue to be victims of fear, anger, distrust and self-loathing. These feelings will not only find ways to vent themselves, but can hamper emotional growth.
What about the death of love? Talk to the younger generation, and you may be shocked at their degree of cynicism. We older ones grew up believing in romantic love. There is, however, a generation which appears to feel more comfortable with certain kinds of arrangements: “friends with benefits” and “booty-calls”. In short, sexual favours in exchange for something they want.
None of this is meant to condemn the young. This is the world we have handed them by our own poor examples of broken homes, high divorce rates, absent fathers and angry mothers. The young people will tell you straight up that they have no intention of going through what they’ve seen in their own homes or witnessed among their parents and other close relatives.
And yet, if we are to believe the songs, writings, popular movies, and the promptings of our own hearts, we continue to yearn for love. How unfortunate that for each celebration of love, there are numerous accounts mourning its failure or loss! Love of neighbour is suffering the same fate.
Having said all the above, it is my view that the worst kind of death may well be the absence of faith in a Higher Power. I am no philosopher or theologian, but I’m an observer and I believe that I have a reasonably keen sensitivity to what we commonly refer to as the human condition. Having been a student and teacher of literature for years has also helped to sharpen that sense.
I agree that the literature most of us have studied is rooted in a particular world view. Be that as it may, there is no denying that we human beings, for all our strength and power, are a vulnerable lot. In these modern times, we’re brighter, we have more possessions, we have the wonders of technology at our fingertips. And yet, as my grandmother would say, “Let a good high wind come along and see what happen!”
That “high wind” may appear in many forms: sickness, divorce, betrayal, violence, loss of home or loved ones, and any number of the tragedies that can befall us.
While some individuals may appear on the outside to survive these misfortunes, this is not necessarily the case. Having placed all their trust in their human resources, some individuals have nothing greater than themselves by which to alleviate the soul’s suffering.
As a result, we have those among us who appear to be living but are dead on the inside; the life burnt out of them by bitterness, cynicism and despair.
Belief in a Higher Power does not guarantee the absence of pain and suffering. But for those of us who adhere to the Judea-Christian faith, Christ’s death and resurrection symbolize not only the consummate act of love, but also the ultimate triumph over death in all of its forms.
• Esther Phillips is head of the Division of Liberal Arts of the Barbados Community College. She is also a poet and editor of BIM: Arts For The 21st Century.
