Mercy

Kamikaze means God's wind. Young boys were trained to yell the last glorious words of Banzai to Emperor as they crashed to death hoping to inflict a meaningful damage to their enemy. My mother talked about the horrific terror of the desperate suicide mission on many occasions but my grandmother spoke of Kamikaze more frequently mourning her young brother. " There is no such thing as honored death, no honor or medal is worth my brothers' life." Her voice quivered with what I sensed a despise for such a fruitless mission. I can still hear the voice of my grandmother who fought her tears and reminisced how she saw her brother off to war. Her expression was far from that of patriotism, pride or honor. She deeply grieved the loss of her baby brother to a cause she thoughts futile.

My mother recalls one evening when her cousin who had fought in Okinawa appeared at their door step like a ghost. He was presumed dead or missing in action since no one knew of his whereabouts for months after the war ended. My grandfather expressed the joy of his nephew's return from war in his journal; " It was the moment of greatest joy to see him alive. It did not matter who lost in the war". This nephew or my mother's cousin is still alive in Tokyo in his 90's. He wrote one year in memory of his uncle/my grandfather saying that tears of joy did not stop for hours as he immersed himself in the warm presence of his uncle and his family feeling the ultimate bliss for being alive and free from the anguish of war.

As I read the news of the return of the Georgian Luger's lifeless body today, I could not help but feeling the immense loss felt by their small nation in the midst of the festivity of winter sports the rest of the world is enjoying. The circumstance of death vastly differ from each other, but I could hear my grandmother's grieving voice echoing with that of the luger's, parents', "Why did I survive you? I would not want any medal or honor. I wish you were home alive".

I know it is nothing but the mercy of the divine creator that gives me life today. Am I full of gratitude? Yes but No, it is more like sense of overwhelming responsibility that is felt heavy at times. Being alive occasionally burdens the grieving heart. As I read the article about the luger's return home and the grief of the family, my soul was deeply stirred remembering the unspeakable death I felt inside with a sudden and unexpected death of my father caused by hunan errors and inadequate provision etc etc..... At least in our case, no one dared to blame that it was my father's fault. The luger's parents were told that the luger's mistake caused the accident; thus, this tragic death. I am not able to fathom the depth of the grief that family feels and most certainly rising anger that they can not suppress. I know cold and dark days are ahead of them in Georgia before they begin to feel any warmth and a hint of light. Spring is still months away.

I can hear someone say to me, " Get over it. Dead is dead and focus your effort on those that are alive instead of dwelling on grief". I can tell you, it is not as easy as it sounds. Grief is a painful thing, perhaps much more painful than dying itself. My prayers are with them as well as with those who continue to grieve in Haiti. Grief is under rated, in my opinion.